I Forgot To Remember
by Scarabies
Summary: Waking up after a bullet to your head is a good sign in the Mojave. Lyra isn't quite sure who she is yet as she adventures in the Mojave Wasteland, finding herself entangled with a psychologically battered sniper. Disclaimer: I own nothing but Lyra.
1. Hey there, Handsome

Boone was getting damn tired. Manny had long gone down to his bed in the old motel, leaving Boone to his nightly vigil of the small town of Novac. Having the night shift was an OK deal to Boone; besides some stray radscorpians and keeping an ear out for the McBride's ranch, he was left alone for the most part and solitude was always preferable. Tonight, though… something was different. It wasn't like Boone to become restless – years of training easily put fatigue in the back seat… or so he thought. The truth was it wasn't just his nightly routine up in this ridiculous dinosaur's mouth that had his eyelids drooping. Christ, he hadn't slept properly in weeks, months… maybe even years. Boone felt a crack in the back of his mind, promptly shutting down any further thoughts on _that_ particular subject just as he caught sight of a figure making their way into Novac.

"And who might you be…" Boone muttered as he swung his rifle carefully to his right, his scope zooming in on the figures dirty face. It was too dark at this hour of the morning to fully make out their features… but not dark enough to know he had the shot he needed. The wanderer cautiously looked left and right as they came to the junction in the middle of town, Boone moving his scope to the nine millimeter tightly clutched in the figures small hands. He watched as their head twisted to the left to carefully look over the canteen area set up alongside the road. Boone's eyes narrowed as the figure nodded to themselves and holstered their weapon, clearly placated by the silence of the small town in the early hours of the morning. Boone wondered if Jeannie-May was up and in the lobby of her motel as he watched the wanderer mosey over to the Dino-Deelite's battered front door. The opening and closing of the door solidified Boone's assumption and he shrugged his shoulders, easing himself back into his usual position and steeling himself against any further bitter musings.

God damn, he was tired.

_ Thwump._

The old bed beneath Lyra squealed in protest as her weight crashed onto it, Lyra barely acknowledging its old spring's cries for help as she threw herself on top of the mattress.

"Bed sheets? Pillows? This place knows how to spoil a girl…" She muttered happily into the musky pillow, ignoring the moldy smell and instead relishing in the vast difference between this and the Mojave's cold, hard earth. Lyra was exhausted; it had been a_ long_ walk from Goodsprings to here and she decided after a few hours sleep she would haul ass and start asking around about this Benny fuck. Sighing as she rolled onto her back, she examined the crumbling paint on the ceiling as her face darkened in thought. Absent-mindedly her hand reached up to her forehead, her fingers tracing around the scar in the top right corner. She couldn't remember shit. In the nights since she had been pulled out of her early grave, she struggled to remember what had happened. Lyra squeezed her eyes shut, hoping that the act would magically make her memories come jumping back to her and was disappointed when no such thing happened. Her stomach let out a disgruntled growl.

"Yeah, yeah… "Lyra grumbled as she reluctantly pulled herself out of the bed, walking over to the table that had her small pack sitting on top of its destroyed surface. Her fingers deftly pulled the leather straps apart as she reached inside, rummaging until her hands found the familiar feeling box she was looking for. Fancy Lads Snack Cakes… nothing like a sugar rush to put you to sleep. Lyra smiled bemusedly as she ripped open the box, plucking out the plastic wrapped cake and making her way back to the bed, her fingers ripping open the plastic wrap and bringing the cake to her mouth. Her one hand reached up and pulled her long, straight, blonde hair out of its tight ponytail as her mouth worked on the stale snack cake. It wasn't exactly the breakfast of champions, but it would do. She walked over to the dresser across from her bed and grinned at the Sunset Sarsaparilla sitting atop, popping the rest of the cake into her mouth as she twisted the cap off the top of the bottle. Lyra preferred Nuka Cola but she would take what she could get. She tipped the bottle up and chugged down nearly half as she walked over to her pack, tossing the bottle cap into the bag as she pulled the drink from her lips, gasping for air. Movement out in the motels yard caught her eye as the early morning sunshine came through her window's blinds.

"And who might you be, handsome..."

Lyra finished gulping down the rest of her root-beer; her eyebrow cocking as she watched the figure in the red beret make his way to the motel's other rooms. He was tall, dressed in nothing but a grimy white t-shirt, army fatigues and boots… but boy was he built. She noted the rifle slung onto his back and the careful yet sure way in which he carried himself. He screamed military. Another figure appeared from beneath her room, this one also in a red beret. He wasn't as tall or built as the first man, but their movements were similar. The two men nodded to each other as they passed, one heading towards the dinosaur statue the bigger man had come from. Lyra strained her neck to watch Handsome, as she had decided to call him, head for a motel door at the opposite, bottom end of the motel. She nodded to herself and decided she would climb into bed and get a few hours rest, hoping that someone in this god forsaken town would be able to point her to retribution.

"So, let me get this straight… before you'll tell me jack about this Benny guy… I have to go take care of some ghouls for you? You're clearly ex-military; can't you take care of it yourself?" Lyra was not impressed. It turned out one of the red beret-wearing men was named Manny and sure, he had info about Benny… but Lyra had to earn it; typical wasteland prick.

"My hands are tied; I have to man this post to keep Novac safe… I don't have time to go off gallivanting. Boone needs his rest so I need to be here during the day. Listen, I have a problem that needs a solution… and so do you. I think fair is fair."

"You're a dickbag."

Manny crossed his arms and gave Lyra an admonishing glare, tutting at her as he shook his head.

"Keep that attitude up, and I'm not telling you shit."

Lyra cocked at eyebrow at Manny, "Alright, I'll look into it… no guarantees though… I'm a busy girl; places to go, people to see… you understand, I'm sure."

Manny chuckled and turned his back to her, going back to watching the roads coming in and out of Novac, "Sure thing, beautiful. I'm sure what I know isn't that important in the grand scheme of things, anyway."

Lyra smirked and stood awkwardly behind this man, wondering if whatever info he may have would be worth the caps she'd be spending on supplies, let alone risking her survival. She crossed her arms and shifted her weight to her one leg, "You mentioned Boone… who is he exactly?"

This time Manny didn't even bother to turn around, "He's my buddy, Ex-NCR like me. We both work to keep this town safe. He's up here covering the night shift… usually we switch at around nine at night. I wouldn't bother wasting your _charm _on him; he doesn't know anything about the guy you're looking for."

"Thanks, Manny… for offering absolutely _zero _assistance."

Manny barked a laugh and shrugged, "You get what you give, toots."

With an air of finality, Lyra turned and opened the door behind her, absently noting Manny's half-assed wave and growled in frustration once on the other side. Finding out _anything_ from_ anyone_ was like pulling teeth and for a fleeting second, she missed the warm way in which the citizens of Goodsprings had treated her. She was foolish to think the general populace of the Mojave would be half as helpful. Lyra decided she would ask this Boone guy about Benny as well; if he and Manny were supposed to be watching the town at all hours, there was at least a fifty-fifty chance he had in fact seen the man come through. She walked down the stairs, stopping at the counter and smiling at Cliff whom she had previously chatted with before approaching Manny.

"Hey Cliff… what kind of ammo supply you have?"

Cliff smiled and reached down under the counter, the rattling of keys telling Lyra he was unlocking the supply that was kept there, "Well, that depends Miss Lyra… what sort of guns are you plannin' on shootin'?" he asked as he placed a large, wooden crate on the counter.

Lyra didn't have much, just the battered nine millimeter she had been given by Doc Mitchell, "Wanna toss me whatever nine millimeter rounds you have… and for that matter, any spare nine-_em's_ you got, too. My gun could stand some repairing..."

Lyra handed over her pile of caps, deciding to pick up a couple Stimpak's for good measure. Her Cap pouch felt considerably lighter and she left the little gift shop, heading for her motel room to begin repairing her gun. If there was one thing from her past she remembered, and well, it was routine weapon maintenance. Once inside her room, Lyra sat down at the small table to the left of her bed, carefully taking apart her nine millimeter and cleaning each part, taking what she needed from the two extra she had picked up off Cliff. It was good therapy and luckily, focusing on the task at hand kept her mind from musing any further about her past. She had a metric fucktonne of questions, and an equally heavy amount of answers required… she decided at this point in time, it wasn't worth the mental strain.

"All things come to those who wait…" She sighed quietly to herself as she left one round in the chamber and slid a new clip home, enjoying the smooth _schlick _as the slide surged back into place. She gave the weapon one last final wipe down, nodding to herself in satisfaction and tucked it back into the leather holster she had tightly fastened around her right thigh.

Lyra gave a great stretch and meandered over to the washroom, splashing some water on her face before checking out what she could in the broken mirror. Her pale green eyes had circles underneath them and her tousled blonde hair could use some tidying. She hastily smoothed down her hair, making sure her long bangs covered the ragged scar at the top of her forehead. She had decided tonight she would go and speak with this man named Boone and, damn her female inclinations, she wanted to look half presentable. After some preening and the smudging of some Pre-War eyeliner she had luckily scavenged around her eyes, she felt she was as presentable as a Wasteland Wanderer gets. Her leather armor was bulky, though and she opted to remove the top pauldrons and jacket. She unlatched the shoulder pieces and laid them haphazardly on a chair outside the bathroom along with the jacket. Her tank top was black and faded underneath and she decided as soon as she found a place that supplied it, she was doing some much needed wardrobe shopping.

Lyra gave one final glance in the mirror and headed for the door; she still had a few more hours before Boone would be stationed in that retarded dino's mouth… what to do until then? She supposed she hadn't really checked out much of the town yet, at least not what was further North from the Dino Dee-Lite. As she bounced her way down the stairs, she noticed a man in what looked like tan armour and a Ranger hat, entering one of the small cottages across the motel yard. Maybe he knew something about Benny… it was worth a shot, anyway. Shrugging her shoulders, she decided to introduce herself; the man looked like he may be part of the NCR yahoo's that she had bumped into on the way into town. The Ranger station - _Charlie, wasn't it? -_ hadn't been heavily fortified and Lyra wondered if the man was just on leave in Novac. Collecting herself at this man's front door, Lyra shook herself out before politely knocking.

The older, black man answered and he was clearly irritated, "Yeah, what do you want?"

"Hi, I'm Lyra… new to town, just getting myself situated. Sorry to trouble you, but I couldn't help but notice you look like you're part of the Ranger outfit I came across down the road…" Lyra stumbled over her words, caught off-guard by the older man's glare. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. The man looked over Lyra, clearly evaluating her before he swung his door open wider, beckoning her inside. Lyra couldn't help but notice the severe limp the man had.

"_Was _part of that outfit… until my leg started giving me some trouble. I'm retired now… Come on in and have a seat," The retired Ranger absently indicated towards an empty chair in one of the corners of his cottage before pulling two beers off his night table, offering Lyra one, "Beer? It's not often I get someone with proper manners at my door… you'll have to excuse me if I'm _slightly_ unprepared."

Lyra gratefully took the beer from the man's grasp, twisted off the cap and clinked her bottle neck against his, taking a timid sip, "Well, if we're going to stay on-topic, I figured proper manners would be telling me your name, mister…?"

The man cocked his eyebrow at her, grinning, "Sassy little thing, huh? Well, pardon my manners, _miss._ My name's Andy... you can call me Ranger Andy. What brings you to Novac, Miss Lyra?"

Lyra decided to just put it all out on the table, hoping she'd have more luck with this Ranger than Manny, "A man in a checkered suit, actually. Any chance you saw someone like that over the last few days?"

Andy tilted his head to the side, thoughtfully raising a relaxed fist to his chin in contemplation, "I'm sorry Miss but I can't say I have. Does the fellow have a name?"

"Benny."

"Still doesn't ring a bell… I'm sorry ma'am."

"_Shit,_" Lyra cursed under her breath and sighed. Out of most who she'd met so far in the small town, her first choices for information had not yielded much. She had hoped an ex-Ranger would be a little more astute regarding the people coming in and out, but judging by that limp and the disparaging way the man spoke, she figured Ranger Andy didn't get involved with much of _anything_ anymore, "Look… thanks for the beer and I'm sorry to have troubled you, Andy. I'm just trying to put some puzzle pieces together and as of yet, have had very little _luck_."

Lyra pulled herself out of the chair, gulping down the last dregs of the warm beer before placing it on Andy's coffee table. Just as she was about to say goodbye, Andy spoke up.

"Lyra, I'm sorry I could not be of more help to you… but if I may, could I ask a question in return? I promise to make it worth your while."

"Sounds like more than a question, chief."

Andy chuckled and stood in front of Lyra, "You're right, it's a _request_. You said you'd come across some Ranger's on your way into town. I'm assuming that was Charlie Station. I like to keep in touch with those boys; my Ranger days may be over, but I like to keep in the _know_ if you know what I mean…"

Lyra nodded.

"The truth is miss, I haven't heard from them all day today. Now, that's not normal and I can't reach through to anyone. If it wouldn't be too much trouble, all I ask is you head down… check things out, make sure those boys are doing ok. Would myself but…" Andy irritably gestured to his legs.

Lyra felt a tug at her heart and sighed. The station was literally down the road and she _did_ have time to kill, "Alright, that's no problem Andy. I'll come by as soon as I get back. When I was there last they seemed fine… hopefully it's just a radio issue."

"You and me both, girl."

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	2. A proposition

They were dead. All of them. Lyra stood in the office of the Ranger outpost, feeling the bile rise in her throat as she looked upon the grisly scene. The bloody holotape she had found on the boxes beside the desk said they had taken a female… the pretty female Ranger Lyra remembered meeting and chatting with when she first stumbled across the station. She felt sick.

"_Legion?_ The fucks," Lyra cursed angrily, remembering the name of the faction well; she had come face-to-face with said Legionnaires in Nipton. Some asshole in a dead dog's skinned coat had approached her when she came up to the town hall, not long after she spoke to some crazed man just outside town about winning a "lottery". She shuddered at the memory, the burning bodies… the crucified citizens she had mournfully shot to end their suffering… and felt almost lucky that she had walked away unscathed while so many seemed to be suffering at their hands. Like fuck she'd be spreading their precious _message_. Unless it was to someone who would put an end to the madness, Lyra wasn't exactly feeling inclined to spreading their infamy.

As Lyra mused bitterly, she began to approach one of the Ranger bodies on the floor until she heard a beep increasing in tempo coming from somewhere beneath it. Immediately she regretted her distraction, "No good!" She cried as she threw herself up and over the desk, away from the body just as it blew. Coughing and disgusted as she wiped chunks of charred, bloody mess off of her, she let out a strangled cry of frustration, "FUCK! Asshole's have this place rigged…"

There was no point to looking around further; chances were each body lying on the bloody floor was rigged with a mine.

Lyra dusted herself off and headed out the door of the Ranger office, vaguely aware of the _BANG_ behind her before immediately crying out in pain as she felt something hot and searing dig its way into her left shoulder blade. As fast as the pain would let her she whipped her pistol out of its holster and turned around, spotting her assailant on top of the roof. Four shots rang out from her nine millimeter, one of which ripped through the man's neck. She let out a triumphant grunt as the man fell over backwards off the roof, his muffled _THUMP_ as he hit the ground more than satisfying. Lyra jogged around the building, grimacing with each pump of her arms and stood over the man. He was still breathing. She tilted her head and examined the man as one hand struggled to stifle the blood pouring from his neck while the other blindly grasped for his weapon. He was Legion, alright. A twisted snarl played across Lyra's face as she kicked the man's .357 away, also reaching down to yank his machete from its belt clip.

"You can bleed, fucker," Lyra snarled as she picked up his pistol, tucking it into her second thigh holster on her left leg while she also clipped the machete to her leather belt around her waist. The Legionnaire beneath her let out some garbled laughter and Lyra rolled her eyes, deciding she could also take his armour. At least the gear would give her some caps. The man's dying laughter cut out as he watched in awkward horror as she began stripping him, "Now, you're just another dead Wasteland asshole," Lyra hissed as she yanked the remainder of his Legionnaire gear off of him. Lyra shrugged off her pack from her shoulder, unceremoniously shoving the gear deep into it and turned her back on the dying man.

Ranger Andy was not going to be pleased.

Lyra wished desperately she had had better news for Ranger Andy, the look on his face after she told her grim report devastating her as much as the news was him.

"Caesar's Legion… I've had just about all I can take from those bastards," Andy sighed as he slumped down onto his bed, his one hand reaching to take off his hat while the other ran his fingers through his shortly cropped hair. Lyra teetered awkwardly on the spot, her shoulder still smarting incredibly from the bullet still lodged in her flesh.

"I'm sorry, Andy… I wish there was more I could ha-"Lyra unexpectedly stumbled and barely caught herself from slamming into the floor, her head becoming dizzy as she crashed against the door behind her. Andy shot up from the bed and hobbled quickly over to her.

"You've been shot. Damn it, girl - why didn't you say something…?" He muttered as he lead her to the bed, Lyra easily flopping onto the mattress, watching Andy walk over to a First Aid kit he had attached to the wall. The Ranger came over with a Stimpak, tweezers, tape and gauze in his hand. He motioned for Lyra to scooch over and he reached under the mattress, pulling out a bottle of vodka.

"This isn't going to tickle," He said, his face bleak.

Lyra hissed when she felt Andy pat down the area with the vodka drenched gauze, biting the inside of her cheek as he cleaned the wound. Andy noticed this and rolled up a thick piece of gauze, "Put it between your teeth… I've got to dig this thing out. You're lucky it didn't go in any deeper; this could have been fatal." Lyra complied and barely contained a cry in protest when she felt the tweezers enter her flesh, the relief very slight when Andy pulled the slug from her shoulder blade. He plopped it onto the floor and carefully taped up the wound with a thick patch of gauze, finishing with a quick injection from the Stimpak behind her right ear. After he was all done he walked over to his bathroom to clean his hands, calling from the door.

"That should hold up for now, but I suggest when you get back to your room you make a proper wrap. I just figured it would be indecent of me to have you remove that tank top of yours. Make it like a sling though and have some rest for a couple days if you can spare it."

Lyra nodded and got up off the bed, carefully shrugging her shoulder and wincing as it stung in protest. If this is what her shoulder felt like after getting shot, she supposed she should be grateful she would never remember a slug to the head. Andy reappeared form the bathroom and looked at Lyra thoughtfully before walking over to a safe he had tucked into a corner by the bathroom. He reached in and pulled out a decent sized pouch, holding it out for Lyra.

"200 Caps… for you. I appreciate what you did, Lyra. I'm just sorry you got hurt in the process."

Lyra held up her hands in protest, "Andy, I couldn't."

"Just take the damn Caps, woman."

Lyra sighed and reluctantly took the pouch from Andy, walking over to her pack and tossing them into the open mouth before reaching down and hefting it up with her good arm. She walked back over to Andy and outstretched her hand, Andy nodding in approval as he took her hand in his, giving it a firm shake.

"You take care, Miss Lyra. Feel free to come see this old man any time you're in town. I may be retired, but I'm sure there's a thing or two I could still teach you. "

Lyra smiled warmly.

"I don't doubt it, chief. "

"Oh, and another thing Lyra; anytime you come across some NCR Ranger's out there, wherever this puzzle of yours may take you, you let them know you call Ranger Andy friend."

Lyra nodded and made her way out into the motel's yard. The sky had darkened considerably and she looked down at the Pip-Boy Doc Mitchell had given her, realizing it was half past nine. Boone had to be on-post now. She hurried over to her motel room, throwing her pack onto the bed before ripping off her tank top. She walked over to her own room's Aid Kit and tore out the gauze, using what was left of the mirror in the bathroom to wrap it up around her neck, shoulders and chest, tightly cinching it over the wound. It wasn't the best wrap job she'd ever done but it would have to do. She took the .357 she got off the Legionnaire and threw it unto the bed with her pack, deciding to keep the machete before closing and locking the door behind her. Her shoulder seared with each step she bounced down on her way back into the yard. When she approached the gift shop's door she vaguely wondered if it would actually be locked until her hand easily twisted the knob. She entered the dimly lit store, making her way to the steps that she knew lead up to the snipers nest.

The second she opened the door, the man in the white shirt whipped around to face her, the long barrel of his rifle inches from her face. Talk about déjà vu.

"God damn it, don't sneak up on me like that. What do you want?" He growled, his eyes narrowing behind the shades he was wearing, his rifle lowering but only somewhat. Lyra looked into the man's eyes, trying to decipher their shade behind the tint of his glasses and folded her arms across her chest, wincing from the movement before cocking an eyebrow at the man she assumed was Boone.

"Are we expecting visitors?"

Boone's mouth formed a tight line and he tilted his head slightly, clearly sizing Lyra up. She wouldn't admit it to him, but his deep, coarse voice was sending shivers down her spine. The man oozed menace.

"Yeah, I guess maybe I am… but not like you," He paused a second, his stance shifting slightly as he regarded the woman in front of him, "Huh. Maybe it should have been you I was expecting all along. Why are you here?"

Lyra rolled her eyes, sensing already that this man was going to be just as difficult, if not more, as Manny, "Oh you know, heard about the fabulous sights of Novac. The _spectacular_ Dinosaur, the _friendly_ people, _inviting_ atmosphere…"

Boone did not look impressed.

"I think you better leave."

Lyra decided to push her luck, "I'm just making friendly conversation."

"I don't have friends here."

"I'm not from here."

Lyra suppressed a smirk as Boone's eyebrows perked ever so slightly below his beret and he too crossed his arms across his chest, "No. No you're not, are you? Maybe you shouldn't go. Not just yet."

"I'm flattered. Why is that, exactly?"

"I need someone I can trust. You're a stranger. That's a start."

Lyra suppressed a snort, realizing that maybe this man was one cog short of a full clock. This conversation was not progressing at the pace she intended; however… her curiosity was getting the better of her.

"You only trust strangers?"

"I said it was a start," Boone snarled, clearly annoyed, "This town… nobody looks me straight in the eye anymore. "

"I'm going to assume there's something you want me to do. You wouldn't be the first here, that's for sure," Lyra quipped, her shoulder conveniently smarting as the words left her mouth. Boone's eyes narrowed again, regarding Lyra with an air of suspicion.

"Who else have you _helped_?"

"Ranger Andy. He had me go check on that Ranger station down the road. It… didn't end well."

Boone's eyes trailed to her shoulder and he nodded his head in its direction, sneering as he asked, "Is that how it ended?"

Lyra sighed in frustration, "What is this, the Legion Inquisition? Yes. Some Legion fuck's totaled the place. I was careless and didn't sweep the area before entering the offices… asshole got me on my way out. I got him back, luckily. Go ahead and look at me with more disdain and contempt; I clearly do not have the training you do."

Boone unexpectedly swung his rifle over his shoulder, appearing to regard Lyra in a slightly different light, "You don't have to do this if you don't want to. I… I need you to find something out for me. I don't know if there's anything to find…" He sighed and for a split second Lyra saw something _different_ in his eyes, "but I need someone to try. My wife was taken from our home by Legion slavers one night while I was on watch. They knew when to come, what route to take and they only took Carla. Someone set it up. I don't know who."

Lyra brought a hand to her mouth and fought the strong urge to place the other on the man's arm. She thought better of it, thankfully, "You want me to help track down your wife, then?" She whispered.

Boone's face turned ugly, "My wife's dead. I want the son of a bitch who sold her."

Lyra shook her head, bringing a hand up to rub her fingers across her scar as a thousand thoughts raced into it at once and quickly latched on to the question that made the most sense, "How do you know she's dead?"

"I just know. Are you going to help or not?"

Lyra looked up into Boone's eyes and felt her heart tug like it did with Ranger Andy. You could see the desperation in the man's haunted eyes and to have your wifetaken from you… and by the Legion? Lyra certainly wasn't some savior, but when she felt strongly enough she knew when to pick her battles. She brought her hands down to her sides, clenching them into fists as she glared determinedly up at Boone.

"What do I do _if_ I find this person?"

Boone explained to Lyra his plan, in the end tossing her his red beret to use as their signal, "If I can't find any hard evidence… I'm not bringing anyone out. You understand this?" Lyra asked after they had finished going over all the details.

"I understand. Whoever you _do_ bring out… I will expect some form of proof," Boone chewed on his inner cheek, "You just get them out there… and I'll take care of the rest. I need to do this myself," He growled. Lyra anxiously twisted the beret in her hands, blushing when she noticed Boone look unimpressed with the action. She straightened the beret out again and sighed. Lyra just hoped the trust she was putting in her instincts was right… and that she hadn't fallen into some sob story trap.

"Alright. I'll do it."

"Good," Boone looked and sounded relieved, "I'll make it worth your while. And one more thing; we shouldn't speak again. Not until this is over. No one in town knows that I know what happened to my wife. Best they never know. Or the Legion will be after me next."

_ Join the club_, Lyra mused.

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	3. Mud mansions, undies and brainsOh my!

*Longer chapter this time. Thanks for checking out my fic! Pardon any errors; it's been a long time. Also, sorry if the format has looked funny these last few chapters… I'm still figuring out how this new upload system works – was way simpler 8 years ago, haha!

"… You could always tell she wasn't happy being settled in Novac. I think this place just wasn't exciting enough for her, after coming from New Vegas and all."

Lyra blinked as Jeannie-May finally finished yapping on. She had talked to almost everyone in town, even surprisingly getting some answers out of Manny when she caught him on his way to his daily post. After she had met up with Boone she decided it was way too late at night to be asking people questions and opted to return to her motel room for some much needed rest. As soon as the sun woke her up she was up and out the door, spending a great chunk of her day asking around town, determined to help Boone get his retribution.

_At least that would make one of us._

"So… you really don't have any idea what happened to her?" Lyra asked, wanting a straight answer out of the woman. Jeannie-May leaned over the motel lobby's counter and looked around, as if someone was listening.

"The honest truth, honey? I think she left. I just don't think this was what she wanted."

Lyra highly doubted the woman would face the Mojave wasteland on her own, judging on what she had heard from folks around town, "It just… doesn't make sense, Jeannie. Maybe this place wasn't as exciting as Vegas… but from what I can tell, she was happy with Boone."

Jeannie leaned back and held a hand over her chest, "Oh well, _yes_ Craig looked happier than a pig in the mud and _sure_, Carla could be mighty hospitable but she never seemed to want to _integrate_ with the community here, if you know what I mean."

Lyra didn't know what she meant.

"Thanks for your time, Jeannie. Also, here's my hundred Caps for the room for another night," Lyra said as she placed the baggie of caps on the counter and headed for the lobby's door.

"Alright, honey. Thanks again. Let me know if ya'll need anythin'."

Once outside the door, Lyra booted a rock straight across the motel yard, nearly clocking some random citizen in the head with it. No one, not a god damned person in this town had _any_ idea what had happened to Carla and that was _exactly_ what was pissing off Lyra so much, "One of these dickbag's know exactly what's happened, or all of them, but god damn if they have their stories straight," she muttered as she rounded the building, absent-mindedly walking down the main road through Novac. The first person she had gone to was Ranger Andy, positive she could trust him. She believed the man when he said he knew nothing and just expressed his sadness at a comrade having something so tragic happen to him. Everyone else had alibis whether due to family members or occupations, like Cliff.

The only two that stood out were Manny and Jeannie-May. Manny certainly expressed bitter disdain for Carla but swore he would never do anything to harm the woman. Jeannie, clearly being the social ruler of the town, displayed admonishment for Carla's anti-social behavior but Lyra couldn't, and wouldn't, believe that was motive for such a heinous crime. Either way, nothing _really_ added up for the two and Lyra was just about to decide to bend the rules a little - _a little covert B&E never hurt anyone, right? – _when she came across a man with unruly hair and beard rambling along the road.

_What the hell, maybe the town crazy is actually the only _sane_ person here…_

Lyra cautiously approached the man who was standing just outside a rickety looking shack, deep in discussion with himself, "Hi. I'm sorry to interrupt but um… do you think I could ask you a few questions?"

The man took a few steps back from Lyra, his movements strange and as rickety as his old shack, "Shhh! They got spies all over the place…"

_Well, that's a good start._ Lyra decided to play along.

"Best we go inside then, make sure they don't hear. Is that your home over there?" She asked as she pointed to the shack behind the old man.

The man's thick, southern accent filled Lyra's ears and she had to suppress a smile as the old man began talking to the dented mailbox alongside the road, "Yeah. Yeah…. Best we do, best we do." Lyra followed the man into the shack, hissing as her head pinged off a bottle hanging from the ceiling.

"What the hell…"

The place was downright bizarre. Nuka Cola bottles were hanging from the ceiling, creepy mannequins with pylons on their heads – just a general collection of strange _crap_ was littered all across the tiny shack. Lyra smiled bemusedly and turned to the old man after he had muttered something about being careful. He had made himself comfortable in a chair across from her.

"Who sent you? I ain't talkin'. They tried to get me to talk before, but I didn't say nothin'. And I don't aim to now, by gum."

"I understand, I don't mean you any harm," Lyra explained, softening her voice. Something flashed behind the man's eyes and Lyra began to wonder if she had made a mistake.

"We'll just see about that. You come any closer and I'm liable to stick you with my stickin' knife. Ol' Sticky's feelin' mighty ornery this day."

_Ol' Lyra, too, you meatbag. _ Lyra sighed and contained herself._ No, stay calm god damn it. _She took a step back from the old man.

"That's ok. We can talk from this distance."

"You sure, now? It's kinda hard to hear you."

_Christ._ Lyra glared at the man instead, hoping her silence would spur him in a different direction. Luckily he clucked his tongue and gave her an incredibly wonky smile.

"Okay, okay. Just speak up a little. But not so much that They can hear you. They got people everywhere, always listening."

Lyra took her opportunity, "Do you know anything about the abduction of Boone's wife? You know, the sniper guy, keeps watch on the town from the Dino tower?"

The dirty man's face darkened even more, "Seen it all. Seen shadowy folk come to his room and leave again in the middle of the night. Thought one might've gone in the lobby, too, for a spell."

Lyra's heart caught in her throat. The man continued.

"Could be that person went in to get something. Or use the john maybe. Mighty interestin' either way, you ask me. I thought it was cannibals, come to eat us all for sure, so I kept out of sight. But now I know better."

"What do you mean, you know better?"

The man got up from his seat excitedly, a pleading look in his eye as if he was hell-bent on convincing Lyra of something, "Molerat men, come up from the Underneath to steal young women with promises of riches and fancy mud mansions with all the latest designer appliances!"

Lyra could have face planted, "Super. Awesome. Thank you so much for your time."

"If anyone asks, we never spoke!" He cried as Lyra closed the shack door behind her, feeling an overwhelming urge to _hurt_ something surge through her body. She leaned against the shack door, her frustration drowning out the sting of her shoulder, before she thought better of it. A man as unstable as that was likely to gut her from the other side _through_ the god damned door. Why she thought asking the local yahoo would get her anywhere she didn't know. It was another dead end.

_Still… that part about the lobby…_

"I'm at a dead end anyway, why not," She muttered to herself as she trudged towards the motel, bringing her arm up to her face to check her Pip-Boy for the time. Jeannie-May was usually in the office until at least eight at night and it was now quarter after nine. Hopefully Jeannie hadn't decided to put in some overtime. As she approached the lobby door she looked around, making sure no one was keeping watch and hoping it was now Boone up in the dino tower and Manny was tucked away in bed. She looked through the grimy lobby window and couldn't make out any figures moving inside, finally feeling safe to pull a bobby pin out of her hair.

"Shit," She cursed when she realized her screw driver was in her pack, in the room above where she sat crouched that very instant. In frustration she grabbed the lobby door to yank herself up and go to her motel room when it unexpectedly flew open and she was sent crashing down onto the lobby floor. She involuntarily let out a whimper when her shoulder roughly collided with the floor and laid there for a second, hissing in pain. She kicked out her leg and promptly shut the lobby door with her boot, hurling a string of profanities its way before sitting up. She was lucky; no one was here. In case someone had noticed her less-than-stealthy entrance, she hastily began looking around the small lobby for evidence. After ten minutes of fruitless searching she approached the computer terminal on the lobby's counter. Lyra was well aware of the safe in the floor but again, did not have her trusty screw driver.

"Let's see if Jeannie understands the importance of _strong_ computer passwords…" Lyra mused to no one but herself as she began typing commands into the terminal. There were a lot of things about Lyra that well, even Lyra didn't understand. Knowing how to hack a computer was just as much of a pleasant surprise as remembering how to maintain weapons. This particular ability had come in handy on several occasions on Lyra's way to Novac and she felt confident in her _talents_ at this point.

_I got skills_, she mused happily in her head.

After a couple attempts Lyra was awarded with the pleasant _bleep-bloop_ of a correct password retrieval.

"Debutante? What the hell is a debutante?" She mused aloud as the terminal coughed up each file on the computer, "Boring, boring…. Yes, yes I would like you to disengage the safe's lock."

A _slick_ from the floor drew Lyra's attention from the terminal, Lyra quickly locking the terminal back up before reaching down and pulling open the safe door. Surprisingly few Caps were stored in the safe but even those did not draw her attention the way a single piece of paper did.

"'Point of Sale…'" Lyra muttered as she began to read.

_You're fucking kidding me. _

By the end of the single piece of paper, the sick feeling Lyra had felt back at the Ranger Station had returned. _She was pregnant. She was fucking pregnant._ Lyra's head was swimming as she unintentionally crumpled the page in her hand, her fists tightening in a nauseated rage. Once her anger had subsided slightly, Lyra folded the now crumpled piece of paper, tucking it into her bra under her tank top. She charged towards the door of the lobby, her mind made up. There was no denying this and Jeannie did not deserve a second chance. Lyra didn't even want to _begin_ to decipher the woman's motives, her rage increasing any time she realized it had all been about _jealousy. _Lyra came to the front door of Jeannie's house, taking a deep breath and composing herself for what she was about to do. She wouldn't rob Boone of his justice but she had one last bit of acting to complete in order for it to happen.

She anxiously rapped on the front door until a concerned looking Jeannie appeared.

"What is it, honey? Is something wrong with your suite?"

"I need you to come with me right now. There's someone out asking for you, they desperately want a room for the night and I promised I'd come get you for them…" Lyra hoped her lie was convincing, she couldn't think of any other reason for this woman to go stand out by the dinosaur statue.

"Oh well, of course, honey. You did the right thing in telling me. Are they over by the lobby?" Jeannie asked as she reached for a stained cardigan she had resting on top of one of her chairs.

"No, actually. They have a pack Brahmin… they're just out by the dinosaur statue…" Lyra followed Jeannie outside her home and then led the way, the sick feeling in her stomach increasing with each step. She utterly believed Jeannie deserved what was coming to her but it still didn't make it something that should sit _right_ in her.

As Jeannie and Lyra came to the spot Boone had pointed out to Lyra, Jeannie turned and gave Lyra a questioning glare, "Where did you say they were, honey?"

Lyra grew cold, "I don't have a fucking clue. Pardon me but I think my head is feeling a bit chilly," Lyra said and pulled out the beret Boone had given her. Jeannie gave her a look of disgust.

"What is your problem, how dare you speak to me like that. Did you just drag me out here for nothing?"

Lyra let out a low whistle as she held the beret just above her head, "Bitch, something tells me you're really not going to care for much longer."

"You lying SWINE, I'll-"

Whatever Jeannie was going to do Lyra would never know as the second she pulled Boone's beret on, Jeannie's head exploded in a fantastic pop of blood and gore. Lyra looked down at Jeannie's corpse, the empty feeling inside of her not bothering her near as much as she anticipated. She slowly pulled Boone's beret off and reached down, tugging some of her tank top out of the waist of her pants to wipe the flecks of flesh and blood off her cheek. She glanced up at the mouth of the dinosaur then made her way over to it, her feet shuffling as she made her way around the fence and into the gift shop. When she opened the door into the nest, Boone immediately turned around, holstering his rifle.

"That's it then. How did you know?"

Lyra said nothing as she reached down her shirt, ignoring Boone's raised eyebrow, as she pulled out the Point of Sale. She looked down at it and sighed, holding it out for Boone to take.

"I'm so sorry…" She whispered softly as Boone swiped the paper from her hand, his eyes scanning over its contents, his face darkening the longer he read. Lyra took a step back, unsure of how the man would react. Had he known his wife was pregnant? Had they been close to Jeannie? To Lyra's insane shock, Boone looked up and tucked the paper into his back pocket. Besides a serious frown on his face, the man seemed almost placated. He nodded slowly and reached down to a pouch tied to his belt.

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised. It'd be like them to keep paperwork." He untied the pouch attached to his belt and held it out for Lyra to take, "Here. This is all I can give. I think our dealings are done here."

Lyra pushed his hand holding the Caps towards his stomach, "I don't want it. You need them more than I do," She sighed and ran a hand along her hair, her hand grasping her hair tie and yanking it out. She crouched down and leaned against the walls of the dino's mouth, shaking her head as her hands ran through the hair that cascaded down over her face. Boone stood silently above her and she sighed, "What are you going to do now? What am _I_ going to do now? You just killed a serious figurehead of this town and I helped."

Boone knelt in front of Lyra, his head turning to still scan the Mojave as he spoke, "I don't know. I won't be staying, I know that. Don't see much point in anything right now, except hunting Legionaries."

Lyra pushed her hair back from her head, hastily pulling her bangs over her scar and looked at the man in front of her. He had an extremely handsome profile, with a strong jaw and straight nose. Though his brows were deeply furrowed at that moment, Lyra couldn't help but feel a little jealous of poor Carla. At the thought of his wife, Lyra quickly clamped down on any further musings regarding how handsome Boone was. Right now was _certainly_ not the time or place, if there was _ever _going to be a time or place for such thoughts. Boone suddenly turned and looked at Lyra, a bitterly thoughtful expression on his face.

"Maybe I'll wander. Like you."

Lyra looked at Boone and decided to give in to temptation; the truth was, roaming the Mojave was _balls_ and if there was even the slightest chance she could have someone with his ability roaming it with her… well, she was going to take it.

"Come with me. I've already come across Legion soldiers twice in the 3 days I've been on the road. I want to take these bastards out as badly as you do."

Boone didn't look convinced, "You don't want to do that."

Lyra crossed her arms and looked Boone squarely in the eyes, "I thought Snipers work in teams."

Once again, Lyra was awarded with a slight raise in Boone's eyebrows. She could see he was mulling it over, "Hnh… Yeah. Working on your own, you're a lot less effective. I've been there… and paid for it," He whispered bitterly and looked at Lyra, caution clearly in his eyes, "But this isn't going to end well."

Lyra held her breath as Boone let out a long sigh and turned to her, snarling, "Fine. Let's get out of here," He reached down and held his hand out for Lyra and yanked her back up onto her feet. The two made their way down the stairs and out of the dino gift shop, Lyra turning around to look at Boone every few steps.

"Stop doing that."

"I'm sorry, I have abandonment issues."

"Right."

Lyra sighed and stopped, looking around the motels yard.

"Did you want to stop by your place, pick up anything? I was hoping we could at least get one more night's sleep."

"I don't need anything from there," Boone glared at her, "We should keep moving."

"No dice. There's something I need to know before I leave. What time does Manny head for the nest?"

Boone shrugged, "9 AM."

"Ok. I need to get into his place before we go. He's got answers to some questions I have and he's been seriously holding out. Think he locks his door?"

"It doesn't matter; I have the spare key. If you insist on staying, I'm going to go remove Jeannie's body. If we're lucky, something will drag it off deeper into the Wasteland and no one asks too many questions," Boone said as he reached into his pockets, pulling out a set of keys and chucking them at Lyra.

"Thanks."

"I'll meet you back in the motel. You're the top left room, right?" Boone growled as her turned and made his way towards Jeannie's body.

"Yeah."

"Sit tight. I'll be back soon," Boone said over his shoulder and walked off, Lyra listening to the crunching of his footsteps until they faded entirely. She remembered where Boone's room was and decided she'd go see if there was anything she could grab for him, ignoring what he had said. If the man didn't think it was blaringly obvious he was on a suicide mission, he was kidding himself. Besides, the truth was it was not just him anymore… _whatever could better the cause_, Lyra rationalized as she slid the key into the deadbolt. She pushed the door open and quietly shut it behind her, groping in the dark along the wall for the light switch. When the room was finally illuminated, she set to work picking up what she could. Lyra tried to ignore the empty bottles of alcohol that were scattered around the small room, absent-mindedly hoping _that_ wasn't going to become a problem while on the road.

Lyra went into the drawers and pulled out a few articles of clothing including t-shirts, fashioning one into a make shift bag. As she walked to the bathroom she noticed stacks of ammunition on a shelf by the door and tossed it all into her growing stash, also grabbing everything she could out of the First Aid kit on the wall. She shook her head, bemused that the man wanted to leave all of this behind and feeling more strength in her previous assumption. When she entered the bathroom she paused. There were empty bottles of Buffout _everywhere_.

"Shit, Boone…" Lyra mewed as she reached down and shook each bottle, feeling ashamed that she was even considering bringing any. Two of the bottles rattled and she hastily shoved them into her stash, deciding now was a very good time to leave. She had definitely invaded something private, and though she could not blame the man for it, she felt angry at herself for ignoring his decision. They needed this stuff… but she hadn't _needed_ to know _this._

"What the hell are you doing in here?"

Lyra yelped in surprise at the grave tone of Boone's voice, his muscular body framed in the doorway, "I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking… I was just grabbing some spare clothes for you and whatever medical supplies you could spare…" Lyra trailed off and hoped to god Boone could not see her blush.

"I'm not so sure about this travelling together thing. You're not exactly instilling a sense of camaraderie," He growled as he stomped towards her, yanking the make shift pack from her hands and up-ending its contents on his bed. Lyra bit her bottom lip and backed away, admittedly feeling a little scared. Boone rummaged through the items she had plucked, his brows still furrowed as he looked up and over at her, a bottle of Buffout clutched in his hand, "I don't need _this_. I'm taking it out; same with the Med-X… you got a _problem _with that?"

_So long as you don't, big boy._

Lyra shook her head.

"Good. Let's make one thing clear. Next time I tell you I don't want to do something, you better respect it. This is your first and last warning," Boone whispered severely as he began tossing items back into the improvised pack, holding it out to Lyra when he had finished. Lyra thought she saw a flash of remorse in his eyes but it was gone before she could be sure. She swallowed the lump still in her throat and took the pack back, following Boone out of his old home and up to her own motel room. As the door closed behind them, Lyra placed the bulging shirt on her small table, next to her own leather pack, and flopped down onto her bed. Boone scanned the small room and, once satisfied, took a seat at her tiny dining table. A long, awkward silence followed and Lyra sighed, rolling onto her back and once again finding herself staring at the ceiling.

"I'm sorry I went into your home… I shouldn't have invaded your privacy like that," Lyra sat up when Boone failed to answer and looked over at the man hunched over in the tiny chair, his arms crossed over his chest, "You know… I'll fit on that couch just fine. You can have the bed if you'd like. Or hell, feel free to even sleep in your _own_ bed tonight."

Boone looked up from beneath his sunglasses, Lyra wondering if he ever removed them, "No. You keep the bed. I'll take the couch. I don't trust sleeping in my place anymore. Here will do fine for the night. "

Lyra nodded and stood, grabbing her pack off the table before making her way to the bathroom. She was going to take advantage of the privacy while she still could. She still had just her black tank top on and peeled it off her body along with her bra, leather pants, holsters and undies. She threw what she could into the tub and cranked the water, leaving her holsters and leather pants in a heap on the floor. She grabbed the box of Abraxo on the floor and sprinkled some into the cold water before shutting off the taps. She decided to let the articles soak as she plucked an old face cloth from her pack and dipped it into the water, giving herself a sponge bath as she waited for her clothes to sufficiently soak. She dried herself off and pulled on the second set of clothing she had in her pack, reaching into the tub to give the articles within one final beating before pulling them out to dry.

"You ah… done in there."

Lyra jumped at the sound of Boone's voice from the other side of the door.

"Yeah um… one second," She had failed to realize the likelihood of Boone wanting to use the facilities and began hurriedly hiding her under things when she realized how ridiculous she was being. Lyra decided to leave her articles out to dry, throwing shame to the wind and plucked her leather pants and holsters off the floor. Her current state of dress was no less embarrassing than the articles hung to dry, the t-shirt she wore barely covering her thighs. She smiled sheepishly at Boone as she opened the door and stepped out, shuddering as he brushed against her as they passed.

_Down, girl._

Lyra rolled her eyes at herself and dumped her armload onto the floor beside her bed and climbed under the sheets. There were numerous things she could still finish up before going to sleep but she was out so fast when her head hit the pillow that she was asleep before Boone even left the bathroom.


	4. What a man

**Wow, many thanks for the reviews and favourites. I'm glad there are others enjoying reading this as much as I am writing it. I feel I should throw a more detailed disclaimer here: All characters, places, creatures and items etc belong to Bethesda respectively. The idea of Lyra's personality was my own creation, but we all know Bethesda owns "The Courier". Man, is everyone else enjoying this game as much as I am?

The girl was out for the count.

_What was her name again? Did she even tell me? No… I didn't even ask. She didn't offer._

Boone smirked as he reached back into the bathroom to flick the light off. He'd find out soon enough. He wasn't quite sure what to make of her at this point but the truth was she _had_ helped him. More than anyone else had and beyond that, she looked him in the eye. He could respect that. Going into his old home had been a _piss off_… but ultimately he knew the girl had innocent intentions.

_Christ, she probably thinks I'm some sort of strung out psycho._

Craig sighed as he sat down on the couch across from her bed, its springs groaning under his bulk as his fingers began to work the laces of his combat boots, the action relieving him of any further thoughts regarding his previous _coping_ habits. Though he certainly wasn't going to strip down to something as skimpy as what the girl was wearing, the man could not sleep with a pair of boots on…. at least when he had the option to go without.

A soft whimper came from the curled figure on the bed.

Boone looked over, examining the furrowed brows of the woman snarled in the blankets as he put his boots beside one another at the other end of the couch. She had tried to cover up the scar on her forehead earlier; Craig well aware of what a bullet wound looked like the second he caught a glimpse. He may not know anything of the girl, but surviving a bullet to the head was a one in a million chance. Questions flooded his mind. Questions he was too damn tired to think of at the moment. He knew nothing of this person, where she came from or even her motives for being in Novac. He had heard she was asking around about some guy in a checkered suit; no one he knew of, that was for sure. Craig hadn't seen anyone dressed in a suit since he had visited The Strip years ago…. when he met Carla.

_Carla…_

Boone stretched out on the couch, his arms up behind his head. He wanted to think of her. Wanted to remember her touch, her voice… God damn it, it was too much. She was gone, he knew that better than anyone… and sh–_they weren't_ coming back. No amount of Buffout or booze would erase that single truth. He was going to take advantage of this opportunity to forget with each dead Legionnaire…rather than an empty bottle. This strange girl had offered him the first step of bitter solace he needed and now, he would follow her. She had already crossed paths with the Legion several times and sounded like she was dealing out his kind of justice. He knew little of her abilities but if she had made it to Novac with nothing more than a shitty nine-_em _she had to be doing something right.

"_No_…"

The girl's pathetic whimper snapped Craig out of his thoughts. He quietly rose from the couch, slowly approaching the bed. There was a sheen of sweat glistening on the girl's skin, her body twisting awkwardly amongst the sheets. She was dreaming. Boone had been there, too – was _still_ there. For a second, Craig let down his cold defenses and reached down, gently untangling the blankets from around the girl, careful not to wake her as he straightened them over top of her, keeping his eyes above the waist. He stepped back and crossed his arms.

_She can't be older than 25… definitely younger than me._

Boone stifled a yawn and stretched out his arms before lying back down on the couch. He still had questions that needed answering but they could wait. He had a feeling this girl was going to lead him to deliverance.

_Hopefully in the form of a bullet… and Caesar dead at my feet._

The bitter thought was the last to go through Craig's mind as he drifted off to sleep, the soft whimpering coming from the girl lulling him into his own nightmares.

"Wake up. Manny's gone to his post."

Lyra groaned and rubbed at her eyes, Boone's gruff voice unwelcome. She heard him snarl in frustration as she lazily waved him away, pulling the blankets back to her chest as she closed her eyes once more. She had not slept well. At all.

"I'm serious. Get up. We have to get moving so the sooner you get this god damn information from Manny, the faster we take a hike. Come on," Boone urged, frustration permeating his voice as he started kicking the bed with a heavy combat boot. When that failed to spur the girl he growled and reached down, grasping the blankets and giving one hard yank, the girl practically flying off the bed along with the sheets.

"Gah! What the fuck!" Lyra cried, her shoulder aching as she scrambled to cover her exposed thighs, shooting a glare of contempt at Boone. Boone shrugged and walked back over to the dining table, sitting down as he began to open a can of Cram. Lyra shot one more disgruntled look at him and crawled off the bed, grabbing her leather pants and holsters off the floor as she made her way to the washroom. Once inside she splashed her face with water, rubbing away the smudged eyeliner from around her eyes. She looked back to grab her clothing that she had left out to dry and was perplexed to see it all neatly folded on top of the counter.

_Interesting. Deadly sniper is secret Suzie Homemaker._

Neat. Lyra wondered if she should be disturbed by the gesture as she pulled on her leather pants but decided against it; she was no head doctor, but it was clear the man was a decent human being at heart. Bitterness did funny things to one's psyche… hell that was just one of the_ perks_ of living in the Mojave, but something told Lyra the cold exterior Boone had was nothing but a front. There was something deeper to the man.

_You haven't even told him your name, yet._

The realization was like an awkward kick to the ass and as Lyra pulled on the rest of her clothing she decided she would make sure the two had a proper introduction after this. As she fastened her holsters around her thighs she glanced in the mirror. She looked like shit. Bags were still under her eyes and her lips looked swollen. Lyra shook her head, her fingers done latching her holsters and reached up to pull her hair out of her tousled pony tail. She ran her fingers through it gently, wishing desperately she had a proper hair brush – the locks were beginning to dread. She carefully swept her long bangs over her scar and pulled the remaining clumps of hair into a lazy pony tail. After using the toilet she nodded to her reflection in the mirror and grabbed her sleeping clothes off the floor. As she came back into the main room she noticed Boone was sitting on the bed, her pack at his feet… the Legion armour she had scavenged in his large, rough hands.

"Not keeping something from me, are we?"

Lyra sighed and marched over to Boone, snatching the armour from his grasp and whipping it behind her, "As if I'd be caught dead in that ridiculous get up. I took it off the Legionnaire I killed back at Charlie… didn't want him to think he was going to die in his colours," she crossed her arms and turned her head, her eyes focusing on a dirty spot on the wall, "Figured I could at least get some Caps for the effort."

"Smart girl."

Lyra looked back at Boone and sighed, "So… is it just Boone or do you have a first name?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing."

"My name isn't Boone."

"Clearly. You don't have a name at all, to my knowledge."

Lyra narrowed her eyes, "I'm sorry… with how everything happened yesterday, I just didn't think," She held out her hand, "I'm Lyra."

Boone took her hand in his and gave it a firm shake, Lyra resisting an urge to cringe from his grip.

"Craig. You know the rest. I don't like the use of my first name… so if you wouldn't mind, I'd prefer you continue to call me Boone."

"You got it, Booner."

"Don't call me that."

"Sounds like Boner."

"Knock it off," Boone growled in warning. Lyra snorted and waved her hands apologetically.

"I'm sorry. Couldn't resist… it won't happen again."

Boone nodded doggedly, got up off the bed and walked back over to the small table. He picked up a plate with a few chunks of Cram on it and handed it to Lyra.

"Breakfast. Eat quickly so we can head out."

_He cooks? God damn._

Not that slopping cold, slimy Cram on a plate constituted any form of _cooking_ but again, Lyra took solace in the man's small yet thoughtful actions. He was a conundrum that was for sure. She plopped down onto the bed and popped a few chunks of the disgusting meat into her mouth. Boone pulled up a chair in front of her, turning it backwards as he sat in it with his stomach to its back, his thighs straddling the seat.

"Why do you need to get into Manny's room? Why not just talk to him?"

Lyra gulped down another chunk of cram and swallowed before answering, "Tried already. No dice. No offense, but the man's a dickbag."

It was Boone's turn to let out a snort.

"He always said to me that information was a commodity."

Lyra rolled her eyes at the sentence, "Yeah. Like I said. Dickbag. Either way, he _did_ tell me he knew _something_. I could get the info out of him… but it would require a lot of time, effort and resources that I just can't spare this early in the game."

"And if his room yields nothing?" Boone asked, unable to resist pointing out the loop in her logic. Lyra tossed her plate back down onto the table as she chewed on her last piece of Cram.

"Then I'm FUBAR. It's worth a shot, either way," She explained as she started to move around the room, collecting anything she felt would yield some Caps. She turned to Boone and smiled, "I'm going to go sell what I can at Cliff's shop and stock up. Then I'll make my way to Manny's room. I think we can agree it would be best if you laid low in here."

Boone nodded, helping her shove various items deep into her pack. Lyra slowly walked over to the corner of the room she had whipped the Legion armour, flashing Boone a rueful look as she crammed it into her already overflowing pack, "I'll see if Cliff's got a pack for you. The more we can carry the better."

Boone reached into one of his cargo pockets and released the clasp, pulling out a pouch and tossing it Lyra's way, "There's a couple hundred Caps in there… including those you refused to take. Pick us up some ammo with it and any spare rifle parts you can get your hands on."

Lyra nodded, reached for the door and pulled it open, leaving Boone to nothing but his thoughts and rifle.

"Boulder City huh… Asshole."

Lyra rubbed her forehead and sighed. Manny may not have known Benny, but he certainly was well associated with whatever men were _travelling_ with him. Probably the same men who had watched her die… almost. After she had sold every last bit of junk she could to Cliff, she spent more than half of her and Boone's caps on ammunition. She even spared the few extra caps out of her own pocket to pick up Boone a new scope that was in near perfect condition. Luckily Cliff did have a spare pack and after stocking both equally, she quickly tossed them back into the motel room without saying a word to Boone and headed back down the steps to Manny's room. The second she walked in and saw the terminal she knew it would have what she was looking for. The man hadn't even locked it.

Lyra had no idea where Boulder City was… but she had a firm belief Boone did. She made her way out of the small motel room, making sure to lock the door behind her. As she climbed the stairs back up to her room, Ranger Andy appeared at the bottom of the stairs, calling her name.

"Miss Lyra! If I may have a word…?"

Lyra froze.

"Sure thing, Andy. What's up?" She asked as nonchalantly as she could. She saw Andy's brows furrow with worry and he crossed his arms, shifting his weight to his good leg.

"You seen Jeannie-May? No one has seen her or heard from her since yesterday. Folk's are getting concerned."

"I saw her last night when I paid her my caps for the room. Couldn't find her this morning to check out. Sorry, Andy."

The Ranger nodded his head slowly.

"I knew there was something coming to that woman. There was somethin' _wrong_ about her ever since Miss Carla went missing," He looked up at Lyra, a strange look in his eyes, "You take care, Miss Lyra. Don't be biting off more than you can chew, now."

Lyra smiled.

"You got it, chief."

Lyra turned and began to walk up the stairs when Andy called out to her one final time.

"You take care of that man, you hear? He's a good soldier; been through a lot."

Lyra nodded and turned to watch the retired Ranger head back to his cottage before she opened the motel door. She stepped inside and leaned against the closed door, sighing to herself. Lyra was convinced the cat was out of the bag with Ranger Andy.

"Thanks for the scope."

Boone got up from the table, his rifle lying upon it. Lyra noticed the new scope expertly attached, the old one lying next to the barrel. She nodded at Boone and made her way to the chair across the room that still had her leather jacket and pauldrons in a heap on the seat.

"No problem. There wasn't much else," She said as she tugged on the jacket, slowly zipping up the front and frowning at the tightness of it around her chest. She picked up her pauldrons in her hands and shot Boone a helpless, awkward smile, "Mind giving me a hand? These are tricky to fasten on my own."

Boone nodded and graciously approached her, carefully pulling the straps up and shoulder plates into place, his hands trailing behind her back. Lyra blushed at their proximity to one another.

"Can you… uh pull your hair away, please?" Boone asked awkwardly, Lyra's long ponytail obscuring the final buckles that rested across her shoulder blades. She nodded and quickly tugged the tresses over her shoulders and to her chest, tilting her head downward. She could feel Boone's breath on her neck. When Boone gave one final tug, Lyra wincing as the shoulder piece tightened across her wound, he pulled away. She quickly reached up and tightened the leather straps that cinched across her chest, the metal hoops locking the straps in place. She turned around and avoided Boone's eyes, hoping to stifle her blush as she walked over to her pack and threw it over her shoulders.

Lyra took a deep breath and turned to Boone.

"Let's blow this popsicle stand."

Boone smirked and cocked an eyebrow at her as he followed her out the motel door, grabbing his rifle and pack as he passed the tiny table they sat at.

"What the hell's a popsicle?"


	5. Falling Into Pieces

**Note: Again, many, many thanks for all of the alerts and the reviews! I very much appreciate you all taking the time to read my story. Beyond that I just want to apologize for the flow of the story, for some reason when my chapters upload it doesn't keep my transition separators. You'll have to bear with me until I get that sorted – improvisation is in order until then. I decided this chapter worked best written entirely from Boone's perspective. Hopefully, he appears consistently in character. Any blips were me taking some artistic liberties.

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"Such a good pup! Yeah, who's a handsome man? You are, yes you!"

Boone felt his eye twitch as he watched Lyra, surrounded by the old woman's yipping dogs as they mauled her happily outside the scrap yard. The old woman, Gibson, chortled in her seat, clearly enjoying the scene in front of her. Boone sighed and crossed his arms over his chest.

"We should keep moving."

Lyra gave one of the mangy dogs a final scratch behind the ear before looking over at Boone, a content smile splayed across her fair features.

"Sorry boss couldn't resist…. Can't remember the last time I saw a dog. Particularly one that didn't have meal plans for me," Lyra chuckled, patting another of the dogs along its flank, "Mrs. Gibson, you've got good taste in friends. I hope our paths cross again," She said, giving the old woman a respectful nod.

"You take care, dears."

Boone quietly followed Lyra as she continued on further up the road, his eyes carefully scanning the surrounding Mojave for threats beneath his shades. Once assured there were no immediate threats, he took the opportunity to assess the woman walking before him. She was certainly setting the pace, not that Boone couldn't keep up… he preferred the rear for obvious reasons. He wondered exactly what it was she did _before _she came to Novac. Neither had disclosed much about their past, though Boone felt he had been much more generous than she. On their approach to the scrap yard she had explained their destination was Boulder City, Boone admitting he knew the location well but choosing not to divulge anything further. She would find out soon enough. Lyra had punched the location into that arm terminal she had, Boone impressed it automatically set up the coordinates and smirked as she quickened her pace.

"You _could_ walk beside me," She called from over her shoulder, snapping Boone out of his musings.

"No. I have a better defensive position in the rear," Boone explained, shrugging his shoulder to adjust his grip on the butt of his rifle, "Easier to cover you."

Boone noticed Lyra deliberately slow down until she was walking beside him, a move that irritated him to no end, "Christ. What are you doing, did you not listen to a word I just said?"

"Conversation will make this trip go much faster," She explained nonchalantly.

"Does the threat of attack mean nothing to you?" He growled, irritated by her carelessness.

Lyra barked out a laugh and knocked her shoulder into his arm. Boone stiffened at the brief physical contact.

"Why sweat inevitability."

"That bullet to your skull did more damage than I originally thought."

Lyra stopped dead in her tracks and glared at Boone. Suddenly, he was staring down the barrel of her nine millimeter. In turn, his own weapon flew to her face, the two at an unexpected standoff.

"How about I aim my gun at you for a while… see how much _you _like it," He snarled, noting the unguarded suspicion flashing behind Lyra's eyes.

"How the fuck did you know that?"

Boone narrowed his eyes, "Hard to miss the gaping scar in that forehead of yours."

Something else flashed across Lyra's features, emotions Boone was afraid to admit he'd seen in himself for a damn long time now.

_Insecurity, devastation…fear. What the _fuck_ had happened to this woman._

"There's something you're not telling me. Spit it out now or let's get this over with."

Lyra slowly lowered her weapon, Boone mimicking the action with his own as he held back a flinch at the shame and confusion that came over the girl's face. She turned away from him, biting her lower lip.

"I'm sorry… I'm sure it shouldn't be surprising that I have trust issues like everyone else out here."

Boone gave a wary scan of the surrounding Mojave and took a hesitant step towards her, "It's more than that. Talking about shit isn't really my thing… but I need some reassurance I'm not going to be killed in my sleep. By you."

Lyra turned around and Boone again felt a pang from the look her light green eyes were giving him. Lyra held his gaze for the briefest of moments before sighing, pulling her arm terminal up to her face, the green glow illuminating her features in a sick way.

"It'll be dark soon. Let's get ahead a bit further… and then set up camp," She put her arm back down to her side, her other hand nervously tapping her 9mm against her thigh, "I'll explain… what I can then."

"_What I _can_"… Let's hope it's enough to convince me, Lyra._

"I've spent the last several weeks trying to piece my life together. There are too many things missing… too much I-I… don't remember. I'm functioning off of the testimony of others… but I can't know for sure… so you'll have to excuse any _plot holes_."

Boone stretched out his left leg as he leaned back onto his shoulders, his foot warming by the fire before them. They had set up camp after silently walking for a couple more hours, deciding as soon as the sun went down they would rest. Boone had done a thorough sweep of the surrounding area, killing a group of Gecko's that were on a hunt before returning to the camp where Lyra had already built a fire. He had kept the Gecko meat and began skewering it, impaling the skewers into the ground by the flames for the meat to cook. Satisfied that they were relatively safe, the fire ensuring any wild dogs or coyotes would at least stay clear, Boone had laid down his rifle and sat, making himself as comfortable as possible atop the cooling earth. Now Lyra sat beside him, her knees to her chest as her eyes bore into the fire, Boone wishing the licking flames didn't show just how _lost_ the girl looked as she spoke. He watched her as her hand reached into her pack and pulled out a crumpled pack of smokes.

"You shouldn't smoke," He admonished. Lyra shot him a tired smile and brought the cigarette to her lips, her other hand shakily bringing the lighter she had used to start the fire to the tip. She took a long drag before letting the smoke slowly billow from her full lips. They sat in silence for a second as she took another drag, her hand then pulling the cigarette away from her lips as she took a rattled breath.

"The earliest thing I can remember… is just how cold the earth was. My thoughts… were not right. I knew something was… wrong. I couldn't fully understand that I was buried until Victor was pulling me from the grave I was left to die in," Lyra paused and tilted her head to the side as she glanced at Boone, "Victor is a Securitron. He found me."

Boone remained silent, opting to watch the spiraling vapors from Lyra's lips as she blew out another plume of smoke.

"That's the last I remember before I woke up in Doc Mitchells'. He asked me my name. Oddly… I remembered. He… he then explained that Victor had witnessed my shooting from afar and came to retrieve me once my assailants left… bringing my limp body to the good doctors doorstep in desperation," Lyra let out a soft chuckle, "He's a good 'Bot… fancies himself a cowboy."

Boone let out a breathy snort in amusement, "Lucky. Can't say there are many doctors who can perform brain surgery…. especially outside New Vegas."

Lyra nodded in agreement and let out her own short laugh, "Yeah, tell me about it," She stretched her legs out, taking a final drag off her smoke before flicking it into the flames, "Either way, I spent the next week with him, orienting myself and going through a lot of physical therapy. The Doc explained that my frontal lobe had taken an ass kicking. He doubted I'd ever fully retrieve my memory… he made it clear I'd also have some other interesting side effects but was otherwise, lucky to be alive. When you asked if getting attacked meant anything to me, would you believe me if I said it was literally a malfunction of the brain?"

"I guess now I would. Frontal lobe… that controls the higher mental functions or something - helps you recognize consequences of actions, how to behave… " Boone shook his head at Lyra's curious glare - his cheeks were burning, and not from the fire, "I used to read. A lot."

A sad smile spread across Lyra's face, "Yeah. Well, it explains how I remember how to repair my gun, hack computer terminals… how to _survive_… but not _why_. That's all task-based. I can function, Boone… but the most important reasons behind it are… lost to me. I have no idea… who I am."

The sounds of the desert encompassed them as Boone sat in silence beside Lyra, taking in the gravity of what she was telling him. This certainly explained some of her odd quirks… but he wondered if she was capable of making a _right _decision anymore. He felt pity for her.

_Admit it; Craig… this girl needs you. _

Boone shifted uncomfortably, switching out his one leg from underneath him and kicking it towards the fire, tucking the other under him. He cleared his throat as he pulled off his shades, his hands coming to his face to rub his eyes. Damn his conscience. He had worked hard over the last few years to suppress it… his whole life turning into a precarious juggling act. Especially since…-

The swishing of the water canteen caught Boone's attention and he looked at Lyra as she drank, unsure of how to process what he was feeling.

_She reminds you of, Carla. _

No! _Stow that shit, soldier._

"Keep going," He commanded gruffly. He knew this wasn't over and he wasn't about to let himself jump to any conclusions. He was already dangerously close. Lyra nodded and offered Boone the water canteen, Boone accepting it and bringing the cold metal to his lips.

"As I spent time at Doc Mitchell's and slowly began to master basic functions again, I started to explore town. It wasn't long before Victor found me and explained what he knew; who I- _what_ I was and his suspicions regarding my attempted murder." Lyra looked at Boone expectedly but upon realizing he was going to merely listen this time, she continued, "I was a courier, for the Mojave Express. He surmised I had been carrying a valuable package and that this group of men knew it. He said the man who pulled the trigger was in a checkered jacket. "

_Christ. She was just a god damn courier._

"I returned to Doc Mitchells'. I had made up my mind after speaking to Victor; I was going to find the bastards who did this to me… and I was going to get back whatever it is they took, hopefully from their cold, dead hands. The Doc offered that he didn't think the men who had attacked me were just some fiends or raiders. He said besides the man in the checkered suit… the others looked like, what did he call them…? Oh, right… Khans," Lyra lifted her arm and showed Boone the terminal on her arm, "He gave me this thing. A Pip-Boy 3000… said it was his when he lived in a Vault. He also tossed me some supplies ad this nine millimeter," Lyra patted the gun tucked into her thigh holster, "Before I left, Victor programmed a few locations into my Pip-Boy after calculating the assholes probable route. First stop was Primm… the rest well, brought me to Novac."

Boone sat up straighter, "You said something about Khan's?"

Lyra nodded earnestly, "Yeah… you know anything about them?"

"Yeah…"

"This is good… because I don't remember _shit_ about who or what the Khan's are," Lyra breathed as she picked up her pack of smokes and promptly lit another. Boone clucked in disdain and leaned back down; he was relieved Lyra didn't seem interested in knowing _how_ _much _Boone knew about the Khan's. He shuddered involuntarily and quickly shut down any further thoughts on _that_ subject. Lyra suddenly turned to him, looking thoughtful.

"Hey, in Manny's terminal… I think it was a note from one of the guy's travelling with that checkered suit asshole – Benny," She flicked her cigarette a few times, her thoughts clearly racing, "I think Manny was a Khan… if that's what those men were. The way it was written… they wanted him back. _Was_ Manny a Khan? Did you know? Did he ever tell you?"

Craig let out a groan and laid his back flat on the ground, his hands reaching up to rub over his face, "Yeah. Yeah, Manny _was_ a Khan. He got out of it… Joined the NCR instead. Look, I don't want to talk about this."

Lyra bit her lip, looking scalded. The girl must have realized she was rambling and for a second, Boone felt remorse. He had to remember that she genuinely was incapable of containing herself at times. He looked up and over at her through his fingers. He sighed.

"It's… just not something I want to get into, alright?"

Lyra nodded and started to lie down beside him, reaching out and pulling her pack to her, using it as a pillow. There was an air of finality between them and Boone couldn't help but feel guilty. That pissed him off.

Lyra carefully wiggled closer to Boone and he stiffened when he felt her warm, small hand on his back, "Hey Boo-"

Craig abruptly sat up, yanking himself away from Lyra as he snatched up his rifle, "This discussion is over. I'm taking first watch. I'll wake you when it's your turn. Sleep."

He didn't turn around to look at her. Instead her marched over to the nearest ledge and sat down, giving the surrounding desert a quick glance before he dropped his head in his hands.

_What the fuck have I done now._


	6. A fine crack spiders across

**I'll be starting up my night shifts again so I won't be able to update after this for a little while. I've been on my week off so it's been great to relax and write but its back to crunch time! I'm going to get as many chapters as I can punched out tonight as I have to pull an all nighter! Thank you again for reading!

Xxxxxx

Boone hadn't spoken since last night and it was starting to irritate Lyra.

_Awesome. It's always the life stories that send the boys running._

Lyra grinned ruefully to herself with the thought. They had been walking for a damn long time now, their only hindrance being a few stray radscorpians near the road. Boone had taken care of those before Lyra was able to sink 3 shots into _one_; Lyra swore she caught a cocky smirk on his face before he was back to a stony vigil. Beyond that the two had not said much, Boone's taunts and barking commands while fighting the radscorpians being the closest thing they had come to conversation all day.

_Maybe if you hadn't tried _touching _and _pestering_ him, it wouldn't be like this._

Lyra was getting sick of talking to herself.

"How much further?" Boone's careful voice called out from behind her.

Lyra slowed her pace and pulled her arm up, turning the dials on her Pip-Boy until she came to the map of the Mojave Wastes. Her eyes perked up and she turned around, approaching Boone as she looked down at the terminal.

"Not much further. About 3 more clicks North East. Should come to a fork in the road. You remember any landmarks we can look out for?" Lyra looked up expectantly at Boone, ignoring the way his height allowed him to look _down_ on her. Boone shrugged his shoulders and adjusted the grip on his rifle, Lyra noticing the habitual act early on in their journey.

"Yeah. We'll see a memorial. For the fallen NCR at Hoover Dam," He explained, his face remaining in its state of malcontent.

_As per usual._

"Perfect," Lyra chirped, turning back around and resuming her lead. It wasn't that being in the front made her uncomfortable - she had more than enough faith in Boone's abilities - she just hated how damn _lonely_ it was. The feeling made Lyra wonder just how she had managed to be a god damn _courier._

"We've got company."

Lyra slowly turned around; her body automatically set to spring as the words left Boone's lips. She withdrew her pistol, her eyes darting to Boone to take faith in what his eyes were seeing. She followed his line of sight and, sure enough, a few figures were approaching from over the horizon. Lyra lowered herself further into a crouch and darted for a boulder face for cover. Boone smoothly tucked and twisted towards the ridge's cliff wall to his left and resumed his previous position.

"What do you see?" Lyra asked quietly, holding her breath as she mentally took stock of their current ammo and medical situation. The supplies were good but she feared if it was a _gang_ of dickbags she wasn't so sure of their odds. Boone was good, but he needed a clear line of sight…. And definitely no baddies in his face. Lyra wasn't so sure about aggroing 3 or more assholes.

_And his silence is killing me._

Lyra shot Boone a desperate look that he wasn't going to see, his attention devoted to what he was seeing through his scope. She puffed out her cheeks, letting out a nervous breath and quickly darted her head around the rock face. Her eyes quickly counted the figures and she whipped back behind the rock.

_Seven? Awesome._

"Alright, I'm going… I don't think I have to ask you to cover me," Lyra whispered harshly as she pushed herself away from the rock face, double checking the clip in her nine millimeter. Just as she started to rise from her crouching position and set off, Boone's hand darted out and blocked her legs from moving any further.

"Negative on hostile engagement; those are NCR soldiers."

Lyra stopped in her tracks and nodded, "That's a relief. Let's see if we've got a little more luck left…" She muttered as she casually lowered her weapon and began walking towards the squad. She heard the rustling of Boone sliding his rifle into the holster strapped to his back and felt assured. When Lyra was only several meters away she decided to give them a friendly wave, holstering her weapon when they were close enough to see the action. The minute her weapon was in its holster, she noticed the rifles the troops were carrying cease to point directly at her.

_Though not by much._

A tall man approached her, "Ma'am If you're looking to get to Boulder City-"

Lyra held up her hand, "I am, actually. You happen to be headed there?"

The trooper looked irritated and sighed, "As I was saying, the ruins of the city is currently on lock down. The NCR has a bit of a situation and we're their reinforcements. I'm advising you to steer clear."

Lyra glanced behind her, raising an eyebrow at Boone before she turned back to the man in front of her, "I _need_ to get into that city. How bad is the situation?"

"I'm not at liberty to discuss that with civilians. Move on."

Boone walked up from behind Lyra, cutting his shoulder between herself and the trooper in front of her. She couldn't help but notice a few troops nod or salute in respect.

"Who's your commanding officer, sergeant?"

Lyra hadn't even noticed the man's rank but definitely noted his eyes snapping to the beret atop Boone's head.

"Sir, Lieutenant Monroe, sir."

"I'm First Sergeant Craig Boone, First Recon Unit. Service number one-eight dash nine-eight-nine dash seven - three - six. I am requesting we follow with your escort to Boulder City until we reach contact with your commanding officer."

Lyra beamed at Boone and let out a stifled snort. She doubted any of the NCR men and women before them had any clue Boone wasn't serving anymore. Lyra was surprised at least; Boone wasn't wearing any form of rank or insignia besides his beret. Apparently that was more than enough to satisfy the sergeant as his hand whipped into a salute and he nodded.

"Sir - didn't realize this civilian had such a capable guard. We will escort you as far as the ruins and direct you towards Lieutenant Monroe."

"That'll do just fine, soldier," Boone tipped his head respectfully and turned back to Lyra as they began to walk, the troops falling back into formation, "Once we get there, do you know exactly what you'll be looking for?"

Lyra felt dumb.

"Uh… Actually, _that_ wasn't exactly clear to me. I'm assuming I'll be looking for the Khans that left the note… if not Benny himself."

"You said Khans?"

Lyra and Boone simultaneously looked over at the sergeant who had doubled back to them.

"Yeah. I'm looking for a specific group… should have a man with a checkered suit with them. Have you seen anyone like that?" Lyra asked hopefully.

"No ma'am, but we're in a hostage situation with a group of Khans held up in the ruins of the city. At this moment in time, we're at a standoff," The sergeant finally explained. Lyra's eyes brightened and she turned to Boone excitedly. Boone however, looked distinctly troubled.

"We should be cautious; if his intel is correct then we have to consider the hostages these Khans are holding. This could make things… tricky," He warned, his eyes narrowing as he spoke. Lyra nodded and quickened her pace. As she walked closely behind Boone, a freckled female trooper jogged up to her and lightly tugged on her arm. Lyra slowed down, allowing Boone to continue ahead as she turned to the woman beside her.

The soldier gave Lyra a cheeky but approving smile, "Wish I had a First Recon guy looking after _me."_

Lyra barked out a laugh, Boone turning around and giving her a disdainful glare before turning back ahead. Lyra absentmindedly waved her hand in his direction, "What, the mute? Yeah. He's bags of fun."

"I'd take the strong silent type any day. Especially with the shot he must have… if you get what I mean," The soldier let out an unprofessional giggle and nudged Lyra in her ribs with her elbow. Lyra rolled her eyes.

"I'm almost positive he's a eunuch. Might as well be."

"That fridgid?"

"You have _no_ idea," Lyra cracked, giving the girl beside her a sardonic smile. The girl grinned at Lyra, shrugged her shoulders then gave her a polite nod before sauntering over to her squad mates. Lyra shook her head bemusedly and jogged back up to Boone. Yeah, she could admit he certainly was easy on the eyes and damn useful in a fight… but she found his hard exterior a deterrent and doubted her ability to crack it.

It wasn't long before the group approached the beginning of what looked like an utterly devastated city. Sure enough they came across the memorial Boone had mentioned, a lone NCR soldier standing before it. The sergeant approached the man and received a salute in return.

"What's your name, soldier?"

"Sir, Private Kowalski."

"Can you tell me where Lieutenant Monroe is? We're here to assist in the hostage situation. Are you guarding the entrance to the city?"

The private shook his head, "No, sir. I'm on leave, came to pay my respects for my fallen brother. The outfit you're looking for is further into town. You can't miss them."

"Thank you, Private."

The private saluted as the group passed, Lyra looking at him curiously, her eyes scanning over the monument before falling upon the Kowalski engraved in the stone. She offered the young private a comforting smile as she passed and he nodded his head at her. The group came up to a small station along the road, an obvious barricade set up behind it. The man sitting at the desk stood and approached the squad's sergeant who saluted in greeting.

"Sir, first platoon, Company Foxtrot. I'm Sergeant Afonso and we're here to assist in your operation."

The lieutenant nodded, "Excellent, sergeant. Get your men behind that barricade and set up offensive positions. It's time we speed this process up."

"Excuse me," Lyra approached the lieutenant as the troops disappeared behind the barricade. The lieutenant regarded her with caution, "The group of Khans within… did they happen to have a man in a checkered suit with them?"

"Negative ma'am and I would suggest you remain on _this_ side of the blockade as we're about to take aggressive action. The brass at McCarran has ordered me to lock down the ruins until it has been resolved," He explained, outstretching his arms to herd Lyra away, "My men are caught in crossfire with some Khans in the ruins as they failed to wait for reinforcements. Now two of my men are being held hostage."

Monroe stopped and flashed Boone a curious look, "First Recon. Didn't expect to see one of you here, heard you were all stationed at Camp McCarran. Are you here to help as well?"

"Negative sir, honorably discharged," Boone saluted and nodded towards Lyra, "I'm travelling with this young woman."

The lieutenant stepped away from Lyra and crossed his arms thoughtfully, "Indeed."

Lyra was frustrated that Benny wasn't with the Khans who were holed up… but maybe they knew where he went. She decided to take her chances.

"Lieutenant, let me try to reason with these Khans. They're as good to me dead as your captive troops will be to you when they're in the same boat," She bit her lip, watching as the lieutenant looked her up and down, "Please. I'm a courier… and these men know something about a package that was taken from me. My employer will not be pleased unless I figure this out. We could _both_ benefit here."

Boone tugged at Lyra's elbow and brought his lips to her ear, his warm breath giving Lyra goose bumps at a distinctly inopportune time, "What are you doing? If you approach those Khans with me on your tail, they'll shoot first and ask questions later," He hissed. Lyra shrugged her arm out of his grasp and bravely gave Boone a slight push away from her.

"Who said anything about bringing you?"

Boone did not look impressed and he opened his mouth to protest when Lyra promptly turned back to the lieutenant.

"Sir, if you keep your men in position I'm _sure_ Boone will assist in ensuring we complete this operation in the _safest_ manner possible. I can approach them _unarmed_ as a sign of good faith and try to negotiate with them; all I ask is for the opportunity. Failing that… you can proceed as you originally planned."

The lieutenant held an air of reluctance for about a minute before he sighed and nodded, "Alright but should we have to do things my way, I think it will be too_ late _for you. I hope you understand this," When Lyra nodded he continued, pointing a thumb behind him at a door built into the rickety barricade, "You may go through the barrier. The two hostages they have are Private's Gilbert and Ackerman. If you can get my men out alive, I'd be grateful. You get them killed and you'll be next."

_As if your little plan bode well for them,_ Lyra mused bitterly as she headed for the barricades gateway. She unfastened her holsters and deposited her weapons on the table beside the entrance, carefully squeezing her combat knife and its sheath deep into her knee high boots before turning to watch Boone scope out a sniping position, a clear look of irritation splayed across his features. Lyra hoped she hadn't pissed him off enough for his skills to take a convenient _nosedive. _She carefully made her way through the rubble, noting immediately the troops positionedto her left… and the yahoos to her right. She took a deep breath and approached the closest Khan slowly, her hands held up and out.

"I'm a civilian here to attempt negotiations…. Is there any chance I could speak with your leader? "

The Khan glowered at her, the tips of his Mohawk flittering in the wind.

"He doesn't want to fuckin' talk to you. Get the fuck out of my face," He snarled, raising his sub-machine gun threateningly. Lyra shook her head and took a tentative step forward.

"I'm unarmed and I'm only here to _talk._ We can all walk away from this. I promise the alternative is less beneficial for _all_ involved… Please."

"Tch, fine… but you pull any shit and we're wasting you… and the NCR fucks, too."

"Fair enough," Lyra responded, gulping deeply as she followed the Khan over to a broken down store front and through the door. He led her to a man with an even more impressive fiery Mohawk and matching handlebar mustache. Lyra was taken aback when the man jumped backwards, a look of shock on his face. He raised his weapon and Lyra felt her heart jump into her throat as _every_ weapon in the room was suddenly trained on her.

"Holy fuck, it's you!"

_Bingo._

"You're that courier Benny wasted back in Goodsprings. You're supposed to be dead!"

"I made a_ miraculous_ recovery," Lyra quipped, wondering just how far she could push her luck.

Jessup's' eyes darted all over Lyra's body and she watched with relief as he lowered his weapon, clearly realizing she was unarmed, "And here I thought us Khans were tough to kill," He holstered his weapon and crossed his arms, giving Lyra a wary look, "So what happens now?"

"You guys took something of mine. I want it back."

Jessup slowly shook his head, "That Platinum Chip?"

"Sure," Lyra had no idea what the platinum chip was but immediately felt she was on the right track.

_At least I know _what _I'm looking for now._

"Don't have it. Benny stole it, right before he stabbed us in the back. He's probably back at the Strip by now, laughing at me."

_You reap what you sow, dickbag._

"I think the least I can ask of you is some answers to some questions I have," Lyra stated coolly, making sure to look Jessup in the eye and keep her stance as neutral as possible.

"Yeah? On what?"

"What can you tell me about Benny?"

"He's one of the Chairmen, big shots who run the Tops casino in New Vegas. A friend from the city contacted me with info on a big job," Jessup explained, Lyra grateful for his apparent cooperation.

_Guess I'd be a little caught off guard when I saw a dead person walking, too._

Jessup shook his head in visible dismay, "I should've known that the caps were too good to be true, but there was still no way I could pass up the chance."

Lyra chewed the inside of her cheek, "What do you know about the Platinum Chip?"

Jessup shrugged his shoulders, "Just a big, fancy poker chip as far as I know. Don't know why anyone would make one out of platinum, though."

"It was enough to make Benny betray you…. Know why?"

"He's a snake, that's why," Jessup snarled, "He owes us the rest of the pay for the job, so maybe he didn't want to pay up."

Lyra nodded her head slowly and took a deep breath, "Alright. Good enough for me. I've got one more request, though…"

"And what's that exactly?"

"Let's settle up this thing between you and the NCR outside."

Jessup began to raise his weapon again, "What the hell is there to negotiate? The NCR backs off, we walk out of here, nobody gets hurt."

"The second you leave this city, they _will_ find you. However, you free the hostages now, and I'll have the NCR escort you out of their territory."

Jessup eyed Lyra carefully and thought for a moment before he shook his head and sighed.

"I can't believe I'm doing this, but all right, the hostages can go. The NCR better keep their end of the deal, though."

Lyra let out a breath she didn't know she was holding and nodded, "Alright, give me five minutes to make it back to their lieutenant, he'll spread the word and I'll signal for when it's safe for you to leave."

As Lyra turned to leave Jessup called out for her and she turned, awkwardly catching a small silver object that he had thrown at her.

"Souvenir for you. It's Benny's lighter. Shove it up his ass when you catch up with him."

Lyra nodded and tucked the lighter into her jacket pocket as she pulled open the door, noting the wary looks the Khans stationed outside were giving her. She tentatively approached the hostages; the Khan guarding them looked back at the store. Lyra noticed Jessup leaning in the doorway and watched as he gave the Khan guarding the hostages a thumbs up, the guard slowly backing away as she motioned for them to follow her. As she and the hostages approached the line of NCR troops a few whooped triumphantly and watched as she disappeared through the other side of the barrier. Lieutenant Monroe was waiting expectantly on the other side, his eyes lit up in surprise as his two privates collapsed on the ground around where he and Lyra now stood. As Lyra reached for her weapons and gear and began buckling it all back into place, Monroe turned to her.

"I don't know how the hell you just pulled that off but well done," He congratulated her.

"You might want to save the words of praise until you hear the catch to all of this," Lyra said, reaching into her pocket and pulling out her crumpled pack of smokes and Benny's lighter. She quickly examined the intricately carved object and shrugged, lighting the cigarette she had brought to her lips. She sucked in a quick puff and blew it out, "I brokered a deal with them; they release the hostages and _you guys_ escort them safely out of your territory. I think it's a fair deal… and I'd hate to see you tarnish the NCR's reputation by reneging on a peaceful resolution."

Monroe stared at Lyra as she smoked, Lyra hoping the meaning behind her words rang loud and clear. Finally, he sighed and nodded.

"Fine. Only because my men remained unharmed in their hands."

"However you want to rationalize it, boss - I don't care… just see that you stick to your word," Lyra chewed briefly on the filter of her cigarette, "I have to go back and give them the signal, once I'm done that the rest is in your hands – You better let your troops know the party's over."

"Were you able to find what _you_ were looking for?" Monroe asked.

"Enough."

Monroe nodded and followed Lyra through the barrier; he paused before approaching his men and held out his hand, "Your assistance with this situation hasn't gone unappreciated. It's been a pleasure, Miss…?"

Lyra shook his hand, "Lyra."

"Take care, then Lyra… I'll make sure to inform my superiors of your contribution to our success."

"I'm sure you will," She said and walked into the middle of the showdown, spotting Jessup still in the door. She waved and made the peace symbol, the confused look on his face telling her he wasn't exactly sure what that meant but promptly called out to his fellow Khans, the message sent clear enough. She sighed and turned around, making her way back through the barricade and feeling a little more than exhausted. It had been a long god damn day. Before she could reflect any further on her tired state she collided with a wall.

"Ugh, what the hell…" She began and then realized the _wall_ was actually an extremely _pissed_ looking Boone standing inches from her.

"You pull a stunt like that again and I'm out of here," He hissed, his eyes narrowing in blatant anger.

Lyra scoffed and began to walk away, raising her Pip-Boy to start calculating the coordinates for the New Vegas Strip.

"Get back here, I was talking to you!" Boone called as he marched menacingly towards her. Lyra whipped around, her own eyes flaring as her fuse was extremely short at this point. Boone stepped back a bit, the two almost standing face to face if Lyra didn't come up to his shoulders. She took a long drag on her cigarette and flicked it, blowing the smoke purposely between herself and Boone.

"What, so now you wanna talk? No, it's not always on _your _terms, Boone. I don't have to explain myself, especially not to you."

"Christ, Lyra! You could have been killed and what's worse, you put good NCR soldier's at risk with that insane stunt. You had _no_ _idea_ that the Khans would have played fair," He snapped, his voice characteristically hushed yet at the same time deafening, "I had no line of sight, no way of protecting you the second you entered that building. What the fuck were you thinking?"

Lyra's jaw dropped in disgust.

"I got those men out alive. If that delusional lieutenant had stuck to his unnecessarily _violent _plan the hostages AND numerous other NCR personnel would have been wasted," Lyra cried, swiping her arm between them when she said 'wasted' for emphasis, "Is that how you guys operate? Just gun everyone down, ask questions later? Sounds like you're no different from the enemies you're supposed to be fighting against."

Lyra watched something physically snap in Boone.

"Say that again and it will be the last thing you ever utter," He seethed.

"Then prove me wrong because you're certainly not saying anything to _disprove_ my argument," Lyra quipped coolly. Boone's mouth went into a firm line and he crossed his arms, Lyra mimicking the action as they both shot daggers at each other with their eyes. She wasn't going to back down; Boone had to learn that there were only a few buttons on her control panel he could get away with pressing. After what felt like an eternity Boone finally turned his head to the side, a sigh escaping his lips as he deliberately avoided Lyra's glare.

"I was worried. I'm no good to you if I can't _see_ the enemy."

"No, I'm chomp change… it was the troops you were really concerned about."

An awkward silence fell between them, Lyra becoming convinced of her previous statement until she saw Boone's shoulders slump ever so slightly.

"That's not true," He breathed and Lyra found herself struggling to keep up her tough girl façade. She sighed and deliberately walked in front of him, forcing his eyes to meet hers.

"I'm sorry… I _needed _to get that information and it was the only plan I could come up with. You're right; I could have died in there but… I had to at least try, as much for my sake as the hostages. I dig that I'm lucky it all went according to plan… but I won't lie that there were a few moments in that broken shop that I didn't see myself walking away from."

Boone met her gaze, his eyes searching hers. For what, Lyra didn't know.

"I'm grateful you got those men out alive. I… have had less than favorable experiences with Khans in the past. What you did… just didn't sit well."

Lyra suddenly remembered the very first conversation she had had with Manny like a slap in the face, "Wait, the Khans… they were the ones massacred at Bitter Springs… weren't they?"

It was as if a stone wall had suddenly come down across Boone's face.

Lyra bit her bottom lip, "Were you… there?"

Boone nodded slowly, "Yeah… "

"What happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

Lyra sighed and walked past Boone as a cheerful noise emitted from her Pip-Boy and she looked down, realizing it had calculated a direct route to New Vegas. She stopped in her tracks when she realized Boone wasn't following her. She sighed yet again and trudged back over to him. The man looked lost. Tentatively, she outstretched her arm and gave a gentle tug on the waistband of his fatigues. Boone looked up at her surprised, as if he had just been woken from a dream. Lyra met his eyes and furrowed her brow in concern.

"Look… I'm sorry for what I said. You caught me off guard… if you don't want to come with me anymore, I'll understand. I won't forget the help you gave getting me this far…" She held onto the waistband of his fatigues, surprised the muscular man had not yanked away in disdain. The two stood there, Lyra feeling her heart beating through her chest.

_This man is broken._

Boone moved into Lyra's touch, her arm that still had a finger hooked into his waist band bending from their proximity. She held on.

"No. I'm still coming with you… I can't shake the feeling you're going to lead me to exactly what I'm looking for," He reached down and wrapped his calloused hand carefully around Lyra's wrist, pulling her finger and hand away from his waist band before he gently pushed it back towards her stomach, "I need you to start trusting my judgment, though."

"Don't make a girl promise something you can't keep yourself," Lyra said, the hand Boone had removed sliding up her opposite arm to hug herself, the act blatantly insecure, "I think we need to _both_ work on the trust front."

Boone nodded in agreement and Lyra found herself once again standing awkwardly close to the man in complete silence. She reached up and began to fiddle with the strands of hair in her pony tail.

"Look, Jessup, the Khan leader back there… he told me Benny's likely back at the Strip. Said he's one of the Chairmen and runs Tops casino… does that mean anything to you?"

"No, it doesn't."

_Balls._

"Then we're going to have to find out. Fancy some gambling?" Lyra joked as she began to walk, Boone resuming his normal position in the rear.

"Never been much of a gambler," Boone said from behind her, Lyra suddenly very aware of how much more comfortable she felt with the sniper at her back.

_This whole thing is a gamble, handsome. Let's hope we come out with a winning hand._


	7. Ready to Shatter

"Hey! Wait!"

Lyra and Boone had not walked for five minutes before the sergeant, Afonso, had come running out from Boulder City to catch up with them. Lyra held her breath, expecting the worst when the man jogged up to them.

"Something amiss, sergeant?" Lyra asked.

"Negative ma'am… just have a request is all, if you can spare the time."

Lyra flashed a perplexed look to Boone who crossed his arms, his eyes focused intently on the panting man before them.

"Go on."

"Ma'am, the outpost we were called from, Nelson, they're in rough shape. They in actuality could not spare us, but my commanding officer, Ranger Milo, was commanded by brass at McCarran to send us here," Sergeant Afonso looked imploringly at both Lyra and Boone, "Any assistance you may be willing to offer them would not go unappreciated."

Boone stepped forward, "What's the situation?"

"Sir, Legionnaires have overrun the town. Prior to our departure my men and I were unable to do little besides maintain a defensive position. Things were already bad when we were there… I don't know what sort of shape they're in with our absence."

"Your squad isn't permitted to return?" Lyra asked, looking at Boone confusedly.

"No ma'am, we've been called to The Dam to assist in bolstering its defenses. I understand its priority but…" Afonso trailed off.

"… They're stretching you all too thin," Lyra finished for him.

"What sort of resistance force will we be looking at, soldier?" Boone asked as he reached into his pack, pulling out a box of .308's and began stuffing the rounds into the pouches on his fatigues.

"A force of 10 to 15 Legionnaires, sir - If they boosted their forces since our departure then… I can't offer you a proper estimate."

"Where's Nelson?" Lyra asked, pulling up her Pip-Boy and setting up the program to input coordinates. She held her arm out to the sergeant, "If you know the exact coordinates, punch them in using the touchpad on the right side of the screen. If you can give me those… we can get there a lot faster."

Sergeant Afonso did as Lyra requested and Lyra was shocked that upon completion of processing, Nelson was incredibly close to Novac. They'd have to do some backtracking but otherwise, it would be a short trip. There was a snag, though.

"We'll do this… but I _need_ a better weapon. Boone can handle his own with his rifle and a comfortable amount of distance… but if I'm going to be tangoing with these dickbag's up close and personal, I need something with a little more… _oomph_" Lyra explained, holding up her trusty nine-_em._

"Now that's something I _can_ do for you. Wait here, I'll return shortly," Afonso said before turning tail and jogging back to where his platoon was surely waiting back in Boulder City.

Boone walked up to Lyra and nudged her hand with a box he had in his own, "Here… I'm starting to be grateful you invaded my privacy back in Novac."

Lyra looked down at the box now in her hand and realized it was 5.56mm rounds. Boone grinned, _almost_ apologetically, at Lyra, "He's going to come back with a service rifle. Chambers 5.56 millimeter rounds with a magazine capacity of 20 slugs. Good thing you grabbed these from my stockpile… I had forgotten I still had some."

"Thank you," Lyra breathed and then looked up at him, unable to hide the nervousness in her delicate features, "How bad… do you think this is going to be?"

Boone shrugged and knelt down close to the Mojave's sand, expertly keeping his balance on the balls of his feet as he laid his rifle across his thighs. He began to carefully inspect it as he spoke, "I'm not sure but I'm not holding back once they're in my sights."

Lyra clenched and unclenched her hands, opting to plop down on the ground before Boone, "Look. I dig you're on some crazy, revenge fueled suicide mission … but don't forget I'll be down there, too. We need to come up with a plan of action."

Boone looked reproachful, "I didn't forget and I _do_ have a plan."

"Care to share?"

"No, there are still too many variables. I'll wait until we are able to connect with this Ranger Afonso spoke of. Once I have a solid base of Intel, we can make a proper tactical decision."

Lyra sighed and laid back, stretching her legs out, careful not to knock Boone off balance. She lazily brought her Pip-Boy to her nose, checking the time.

_Ugh… it's going to be dark soon._

"I suggest we make the trek to the half way point, set up camp and get some rest before we rendezvous at their location. We're going to need it," Boone explained as he took out a small cloth and began to carefully wipe around the lenses of his scope. Lyra nodded in agreement and reached into her pocket, about to pull out another smoke when she felt something sharply ping off her forehead. She looked over at Boone.

"Did you just _throw_ something at me?"

"Yeah. Knock it off; you just had a smoke not 20 minutes ago."

"I'm _stressed._"

"Smoking does nothing to decrease stress, if anything it increases your heart rate as it has to work harder."

"Shut up."

Lyra looked over at Boone and couldn't hold back a small smile.

_There's that cocky grin of his… and do I detect a hint of, dare I say it, _goofiness_?_

"Miss Lyra!"

Lyra pulled herself up off the ground, giving herself a dusting off before she walked over to the approaching sergeant. She cracked an excited grin when she noticed he had _three_ rifles in his hand and what looked like a satchel of, hopefully, ammunition.

"Damn Afonso… you really came through."

"Yeah well, anything to help in getting my boys back on their feet, plus the lieutenant felt he owed you guys," He handed over the first rifle to Lyra, "This one's in perfect condition… these other two not so much. I figured you could take the other two for spare parts. Know how to repair a weapon?"

Lyra nodded, "I'm sure I'll figure it out. I've also got Lord of the Guns at my little tea party so I think I'll manage," Lyra said, looking back at the still crouched Boone and smiling to herself, "Thanks again."

"Not a problem, ma'am. I really should be on my way, though," He turned to leave, leaving the satchel of ammunition and spare rifles at Lyra's feet. He looked back over his shoulder, "Good luck… I think you're going to need it."

Boone had lain down on the rocky ridge and gotten comfortable, immediately putting his scope to his eye as he began to identify just _how_ _many_ Legionnaires were currently holding position down in the small town of Nelson. Luckily, their numbers were considerably _less_ than Afonso had predicted, unless there were a shit load hiding in the barracks tucked into the back of the town. His scope trailed across the location of the three recently crucified – but very much alive - NCR soldier's Ranger Milo had initially ordered Lyra and Boone kill. Lyra had been strictly against it.

"No. We try to take out the Legionnaires. If we can't, we fall back and reassess the situation but I am not accepting that as our primary objective." She had said.

Boone couldn't help but feel a smirk spread across his dry lips.

_Courier, my ass. There's something _else_ to this girl, whether she knows it or not._

Craig couldn't help but admire her tenacity. As much as she had pissed him off back at Boulder City, her luck had certainly pulled through for all of them. While the decision was rash and the risk great, she had undertaken it all and been successful. He wondered if that luck she seemed to have around her would hold out for this operation – it had been enough to stop a bullet for her. Either way, he was itching to pull the trigger on some Legionnaire fucks.

_Dickbag's, as Lyra would say._

The very person passing through his thoughts at that moment appeared in his sights as she silently crept towards the town of Nelson, stopping short of the last cliff face before the town. They had reached Nelson in the still dark hours of the morning, Lyra and Boone convincing Ranger Milo to use it to their advantage. Milo had made it clear he could only spare himself and a couple other men to provide suppressive fire once the chaos broke out… and from a limited distance at that. Boone was distinctly _uncomfortable_ about Lyra storming the town on her own, still unsure of her abilities but confident he could keep most threats as far from her as possible. It worked to their advantage that the Legion rarely used firearms, opting to utilize their impressive close-quarter combat training and intense strength to blitzkrieg their enemies in a different way. It was that which had Boone nervous. He wouldn't let any of them get within touching distance of Lyra if he could help it.

Lyra gave him their first signal, a wave of her hand, letting him know she was prepared to move out as soon as he returned his. Boone adjusted his shoulders and took a deep breath, his scope quickly scanning over Lyra again, grateful for the Kevlar vest Milo had sacrificed for her. He swung it slowly to the left, almost directly above Lyra's current position. His first target was the tower guardsman. He ran through his head the other Legion positions, practicing swinging his rifle from his first target to the second. If he made the first two shots cleanly and efficiently, it would raise Lyra's success on the attack on the town considerably. If he missed…

_I don't miss._

Boone took a deep breath and raised his fist. The second Lyra saw it she moved out and Boone held his breath, sinking back into his intense training as he listened to his heartbeat. He had his target in his sights… and took his shot, perfectly between heartbeats. His rifle recoiled but his strength kept it from affecting him as he smoothly swung it to his next target, knowing he had made his first shot. He fired again, the second Legionnaire going down in a fantastic spray of gore. Quickly he turned his sights to where Lyra was _supposed_ to be and felt a quick pang of panic as he watched her get tackled by a Legion Recruit. He watched as the two tumbled down and growled in frustration. He couldn't take the shot without risking Lyra. Her boot solidly connected with the man's stomach and she gave a great kick, sending the man tumbling off her. Boone didn't hesitate and took the shot, his round piercing the man's shoulder. Before he could fire off one more, Lyra had her rifle at the man's face and let loose. Boone didn't wait to see the effect, knowing he was finished and moved his sights to find the other threats enclosing in on Lyra.

_Haul ass, girl._

Four more recruits were quickly descending upon Lyra. She back peddled, knowing she was to return towards the cliff so that Milo and his men could be in range of the Legion forces, effectively playing _rabbit._ Boone fired off another shot, taking down one of the legion recruits and quickly checked on Lyra, watching her throw herself behind the building closest to where Milo and his men were currently positioned in the cliffs above. Suppressive fire broke out and the three remaining recruits went down, two succumbing to Milo and his men's fire while Boone planted a bullet in the fourths skull. Lyra noticed one of the Legionnaires still moving and shot the man in the head for good measure then began crouching around the corner, hugging the buildings for cover as she moved deeper into the town.

_Six down… 2 more to go._

Boone carefully scanned the building tops and walls, his eyes catching the bright white of the ridiculous bike helmets Legionnaires would wear, one building up from Lyra's current position, tucked behind a broken down wall. Boone took his shot, squeezing the trigger twice as he sent two successive rounds into the asshole, a deadly grin spreading across his face as he watched a _delightful_ geyser of blood erupt from the impact holes. He heard an unexpected cry explode from Lyra and watched in horror as she was taken down by two Legion mongrels, Boone cursing vehemently as he tried desperately to make a shot. He pulled the trigger when he felt confident on hitting the one mutt, unable to feel triumph as it went careening off of Lyra, his sights too transfixed on Lyra struggling to keep the other from ripping her throat out, her hands and arms being horrifically bitten in the process.

"Fuck!" Boone cried, jumping up from his position as he bolted down the Cliffside, realizing he was breaking the plans by doing so, but unable to think of a better solution – Milo and his men were not in range, Boone having to suppress his _immense_ irritation at their ineffectiveness. He could hear Lyra's desperate cries grow as he barreled down into the town to Lyra's position, throwing his body at the dog, he and the mongrel toppling off and away from Lyra. The mongrel gave a yelp but immediately began attacking Boone, Craig grunting in pain as it snapped its vice-grip jaws over his forearm. He growled and brought the butt of his rifle down on the rabid animals head, stunning it enough to give him some time to scramble away. Before he could get his shot off, the sound of 5.56 rounds thundered through the night air as Lyra charged the dog, emptying an entire mag into its scabby head. Her hands and arms were torn and bloody as she reached down to heft Boone up, wincing at his grip on her damaged hands.

"There's still at least one more," He half panted, half whispered, "Are you alright to fire your weapon?" He asked, ruefully looking at her hands. Lyra nodded.

"Just did, didn't I?" She grimaced.

"Good girl. Look, we need to lure them back into Milo's range. We're not even sure if there were any hidden in the barracks tucked in the back and we're FUBAR if there are without Milo's aid," Boone said quickly as he crouched, rapidly reloading his weapon. Lyra did the same.

"You're better up on that cliff, I can handle this. Those mongrels just caught me off guard," Lyra tried to urge Boone but he shook his head, his eyes scanning the surrounding area.

"No good. I won't make it unnoticed," He paused, holding his finger up to his lips. They both listened as heavy footsteps rapidly approached their position.

"How many?" Lyra mouthed. Boone closed his eyes and allowed the luxury of listening for a second longer.

He held up two fingers. Lyra nodded and pointed to the building opposite their position and Boone tucked and rolled, pointing his rifle in one direction while Lyra twisted, covering the other. Boone knew it was ridiculous to engage in a balls-deep shootout with his fucking _rifle_ but they were running out of options.

"Come on!" They heard one of the Legionnaires shout and Boone realized it was coming from Lyra's direction. A split second later he heard her rifle thunder off several rounds, a satisfying _thump_ followed – if they were lucky and had anticipated their attackers correctly, the second dickbag would be rounding the corner at Boone's end. The pounding feet Craig heard confirmed his suspicions and he smirked, changing his grip on his rifle so his hands gripped the barrel tightly, the butt of his rifle effectively turned into a club. He glanced quickly to make sure Lyra was still covering their rear position before he exploded into action.

_CRACK._

His arms swung out, fast and hard, the butt of his rifle connecting squarely with his assailant's shins. The legionnaire cried out in agony, dropping his 10mm sub-machine gun as he began to fall… but not before grabbing the leather straps of Boone's back holster and _yanking_ him down to the ground with him, Boone completely caught off guard by the bizarre and difficult action. He had a second to curse his idiotic decision as he heard Lyra cry out behind him, a sharp stabbing pain erupting in his right deltoid. He grunted and drove his elbow back into his attacker, the pain when it connected with the Legionnaires face satisfying. Still the man resisted, violently trying to get Boone into a sleeper hold as his hand found his dropped sub-machine gun.

"_No_!" Lyra screamed, charging at the entangled men like a bat out of hell. It was the girls turn to launch herself at an enemy, the three of them roughly struggling in the dirt. Boone felt one of the Legionnaires boots connect solidly with his lower abdomen, the man's elbow coming down _hard_ on the top of Boone's head before he kicked out, effectively knocking the breath out of Boone and sending him tumbling backwards, Lyra still caught in the fray. Whoever the fuck this guy was, he was _strong_ and Boone had about a second to numbly wonder where the _FUCK_ Milo and his men were before he realized there was a _god damned KNIFE_ jutting out of his arm. A strangled cry from Lyra quickly made him forget about the submerged blade and Boone shook his head and got up as fast as he could to help before he crashed back down. He was disoriented and dizzy.

"Craig!" Lyra screamed, Boone's blurring vision making out the fact that she was now pinned underneath the fuck in the Legionnaire decanus helmet, his _one_ hand easily pinning down her wrists, Lyra's legs bucking and kicking wildly underneath him. The man tightened his thighs around her own, effectively cinching her kicking legs as he unclasped his machete from its clip.

"Such a pretty face…" he leered at Lyra, using his machete to slice a thin incision down her cheek, "... Stupid cunt. You'll sell quickly at Cottonwood."

At those words Boone felt a surge of blinding, incomprehensible rage and he roared - his disorientation disappeared as his hand grasped the hilt of the knife embedded in his deltoid, ripping it out as he lunged at the Legionnaire. The man turned around just as Boone's fist connected with his jaw, sending him flying off Lyra. With agility he wasn't even aware he was capable of, Boone tackled the man again, rolling with him until his legs were locked around the man's waist, his arm tight across his forehead, yanking his head back. Before the man could react Boone slid the knife across the man's throat, a tide of blood pouring from the wound as the cold metal sliced it cleanly. Boone unceremoniously shoved the dying man out of his lap and crawled over to Lyra who was lying on her side, panting… tears of shock and blood streaming down her face. He reached out for her and gently grasped her forearms, the two helping each other stand shakily.

"Boone..."Lyra whimpered, her glossy eyes searching his own, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," He said, putting his arm around Lyra's waist to steady her after he had reached down and grabbed his rifle, "We need to regroup with Milo… this is… too much for us," He breathed. Lyra's own arm wrapped around his waist and he felt her ruined hand give his side a squeeze.

"Listen," She instructed quietly. Boone did as he was ordered and realized what she had noticed; the town was dead silent. Lyra offered Boone a swollen smile, "Let's go get those hostages," She pulled away from Boone and hobbled to where her own weapon laid. She gingerly picked it up, checked to make sure it was still loaded and limped back to Boone's side.

"Lyra, if there's any lying in wait…"

Lyra shook her head, "We have to try. We'll hold them off while the troops make a run for it once we release them. Milo said they haven't been up there long; hopefully they can make the sprint," Lyra began to wipe her bloody hands off on her leather pants, Boone thinking it was miraculous she didn't have any broken fingers. He looked at the long cut trailing down the right side of her face and felt a wash of guilt. Lyra must have caught something in his eye because she gently pressed her fingertips to his chest in a chiding fashion.

"That wasn't your fault so stop looking at it, ok? Let's get this over with… I'm fucking tired."

_You and me both._

"Hey, guys!" Someone whispered quietly behind them. Lyra and Boone both spun around, raising their weapon's to see two of Milo's troops covering their rear.

_About fucking time._

He and Lyra crept their way to the center of the town with the soldier's creeping behind them, Lyra the first to approach the odd stage in the center that held the three crucified troops. Boone leaned against the wall of a nearby building, ignoring the searing burn in his right arm as he raised his rifle - Lyra pulled herself up onto the planks of the platform, immediately going to the first trooper and pulled out her combat knife. She cut the ropes that bound him and he dropped to the ground. Lyra repeated the action for the next two and did her best to assist the groggy soldier's to their feet, the four of them hobbling their way off the platform and back to where Boone and the other troops were positioned.

"Get back to the camp," Boone ordered to Lyra. She opened her mouth to protest but he cut her off before she could utter a syllable, "No, get the men back. I'll sweep the rest of the town with these two."

Lyra set her mouth to a firm line and nodded, "Be careful," She instructed before adjusting her support on the weakest of the soldier's and began to jog behind Boone and the others, heading back towards the top of the hill they had originally come from. Boone watched until he could see her and the others high above the town and let out a low sigh of relief. He turned to the remaining soldier's.

"Let's finish this."

Lyra had been at the camp for almost an hour, practically holding her breath as she listened to the scattered gunfire, the medic before her tutting as she distractedly moved to look over the woman's shoulder.

"I can't properly tend to your wounds if you keep _moving_," the medic huffed impatiently.

Lyra chose to ignore her.

_Come _on –_ it's been almost a fucking hour. Where are they?_

When she had returned to the camp with the three soldiers' intact, Milo had immediately called his remaining three troops, leaving the medic and one other guard before bolting down the hill to assist Boone and the others. Lyra gave up trying to decipher _why_ Milo had waited until then, her thoughts too wracked with concern for Boone's well-being.

She heard another of Boone's distinct _cracks_ sound off – the continual sound of his rifle the only thing reassuring her of his survival. She breathed sigh of relief and flinched as she felt the medic begin to clean and bandage the dog bites all over her hands and arms.

"You're lucky this computer _thing_ is on your arm. Spared you a lot of damage."

_Yeah. And I'm going to look like a mummy by the time you're finished with me_, _regardless_. Lyra mused, briefly perplexed by the bizarre and obscure memory of something whose existence she hadn't even been aware of. She shrugged, ignoring another huff of frustration from the medic and looked over at the three troops she had rescued. All three had been tortured extensively but were otherwise, going to survive. Lyra had understood when the medic rushed to treat them first though she couldn't help but feel a stab of irritation; Boone was down there without her and she was up here gettin' comfy. After the medic had finished tending to the soldier's however, she came to Lyra, first opting to stitch up the slice the Legion _monster_ had been kind enough to bestow upon her.

"That cut on your face… It's going to scar," The medic explained over the gunfire as she finished up bandaging Lyra's damaged fingers and moved up to her scratched and torn forearms.

"I'll take the scar over slavery any day," Lyra yawned as the medic nodded in agreement.

"Yeah… it ain't pretty what the Legion does to women. No more than breeding stock and slaves. Tch, can you imagine?"

"I'd rather not," Lyra quipped, her attention suddenly elsewhere as she noticed the gunfire finally cease. The medic looked up from what she was doing as well and the two sat quietly, the only sound being the gauze and cloth the medic was expertly applying to Lyra's flesh. Lyra was just appreciating the rising sun when they heard heavy footsteps approaching and soon the heads of Boone, Milo and the other NCR troops appeared over the ridge of the road leading into Nelson. The medic cried out in protest as Lyra jumped up, ignoring her aches and pains as she flew to Boone.

"You're alright," She breathed in relief, her hand instinctively shooting out to grab his hand in hers. She gave it a small squeeze. Boone nodded solemnly and Lyra could tell the man was exhausted, "Were there many?"

Boone shook his head, "There were three at the other entrance of town… they had good cover and a fourth was in an adjacent tower. It was… tricky to outmaneuver them," He explained tiredly. Lyra nodded and helped lead Boone over to where the medic sat, impatiently shoving the woman's hands away from her arms as she attempted to continue treating Lyra.

"I can wait, this man's been stabbed."

The medic nodded and immediately fixated her attention on Boone's right deltoid, peering at it through the great tear in his shirts fabric. She frowned.

"How the hell did you keep firing a weapon with this wound?"

"Boone's a badass," Lyra drawled. Boone rolled his eyes at her and she punched him lightly in his uninjured, but equally bruised, arm.

"I can stitch this up, but you're going to need some time to let the muscle tissue that was torn to heal. I can't guarantee it'll function as it used to, however," The medic warned as she twirled her finger in front of Boone, signaling for him to remove his dirty and bloody shirt all together. Boone gave her an unimpressed look, Lyra catching on immediately. She pulled her combat knife out of her boot and slid it carefully under Boone's shirt, slicing clean up the back before gently peeling it off of him.

"Huh… right," The medic mumbled, setting to work at cleaning and stitching Boone's arm. Lyra smiled bemusedly and lay down beside Boone, enjoying the silence of the bright morning. That escapade had been hell… and definitely Lyra's first taste of actual intense combat.

_Maybe? You wouldn't know for sure, would you champ?_

"Are you alright?"

Boone's voice cut into Lyra's thoughts and she turned her head, regarding the battered man in front of her. Something had… happened back there. Lyra had never heard such a sound made by _any_ human before, Boone's rage when Lyra was pinned and subsequent attack shocking her as much as the Legionnaire.

_Something triggered it… it wasn't just the threat of danger._

"I'm fine, pretty sore but otherwise OK," Lyra offered Boone a weak smile and he nodded, his eyes wincing every time the medic plundered the needle back into his arm. Lyra took the opportunity to close her eyes, listening as she medic began to wrap Boone's wound. Lyra heard the distinct _hiss_ of a Stimpak shortly after.

"You've got a pretty nasty bump on your head as well… Can't offer much for that besides a couple shot's of the vodka I have," the medic offered. Lyra immediately sat up, holding her hand out.

"I will _gladly_ take you up on that offer."

She took the bottle from the medic and brought it to her lips, taking a deep swig. She offered the bottle to Boone but he shook his head.

"No thanks… it's been a while since I felt a pain this… _real_," Boone said with a distant voice that truthfully, worried Lyra a bit. She bit her lower lip and shot the medic a look as if to say 'scram', the woman getting the hint and getting up to attend to the other soldier's.

"Boone… you're sure you're ok?" she asked uncertainly.

Boone took in a deep breath then lay back, tucking his uninjured arm under his head, "Yeah… I just thought that was going to be it down there. I guess not. Heh."

_"It"? What the hell does he mean?_

"I don't understand."

"There's a lot you still don't know about me, Lyra."

"Stop talking to me in god damn riddles," Lyra hissed.

"I lost my shades down there," Boone remarked ruefully causing Lyra to sigh in frustration.

"We'll find you a new pair. Stop changing the subject."

Boone turned his head and looked her in the eye, his face returning to its constant state of malcontent, "It's not open for discussion and if I had to pick between rest… and detailing my grisly life story to you… I'm going with the former."

Lyra was too tired to fight this battle so she gave up, opting to lie down beside the man who had saved her life instead.

"As much as that was a pain in the ass… mercy killing is always a last resort – there are always other options to exhaust. I'm glad you recognized that," Boone said softly.

Lyra turned onto her side and looked at the man lying on the Mojave's hard earth with her. She remembered the sight of him coming out of nowhere, tackling the dog that would have killed her from her body. She had vaguely thought about how it went against the plan until the utter relief she felt overtook the thought.

_He came. For me. _

"I don't know… who I was before that bullet lodged its fragments into my skull, Boone… but I know who I want to be now," Lyra said quietly. Boone nodded approvingly beside her.

"Thanks… for rescuing me down there," Lyra whispered, looking as Boone turned his head to her side, cocking one eye open while leaving the other shut. She noticed the nostrils on his perfectly straight nose flare a little as he exhaled.

"You're welcome."

"Boone?"

"Hm?"

"What's Cotton Cove?"

Boone groaned and ran a hand down the one side of his face, "Lyra… I'm too tired for this. We still haven't decided where we're going to go; we _both_ need extensive rest and the only location within a short distance is Novac."

"So let's go. Before we left I talked to Ranger Andy… I got the feeling he _knew_ what had happened, he certainly knew you were now with me," Lyra explained as Boone flashed her and inquisitive look, "Pretty sure he knows… and didn't give a flying fuck. You know that man has higher standing there than even Manny… I think it'll be ok. I still have the hotel key."

Boone nodded slowly, "Alright."

Lyra Watched as Boone's eyes drooped further and she looked at her Pip-Boy, the effort to raise it substantial. It was only ten o'clock in the morning. She decided they could rest for a few hours, turning the dials on her Pip-Boy to set her alarm, and then they could head out for Novac. A soft snore from the man lying next to her confirmed her suspicions and Lyra gave into her temptation, moving as closely to Boone as she could, snuggling against his warm body before closing her eyes and falling asleep… the image of his enraged face haunting her dreams.


	8. Too Much

**Note: Anyone who is still playing through the game and has NOT unlocked much of Boone's dialogue and/or quests should probably know this chapter needs a serious SPOILER ALERT. Those you who have, sorry… I could only get some of the dialogue right; the rest was off memory as I am way beyond having those speech options anymore. Whew, besides that… I am going to be massively sleep deprived for work.

_Too many. There's too many. It won't stop. _They _won't stop. Or was it just one?_

_He was on a cliff. _Always_ on a god damned cliff, his rifle unbearably heavy in his arms. He fought the urge to put his eye to the scope, the physical action excruciating as he simultaneously fought against it. He never won the fight. _

_No. Can't see. Don't _want_ to._

_The metal ring of his scope seared his flesh. The figures blurred… rapidly morphing through a myriad of bodies and faces, always giving him a fleeting glimpse of _hers_. Children, women, the old… what the fuck did it matter. He didn't know where he was, he only knew the cliff. It never mattered where he was; the cliff was his one constant… his rifle a close second… his actions…_

_Please. Please…please. _

_The figures were phantoms, their cries and screams consuming him in a disorienting vortex. He was drowning, sinking deeper and deeper as the buildings crumbled and bled into red, rocky cliffs before they broke to pieces to reveal chain link fences and barbed wire. The cliff… it always remained… and he was always too damn far._

_His arms begin to swing… the scope veering closer to the sight he had been cursed to see a thousand times. Her lips moved rapidly…sputtering; crying, pleading… all the words were lost except one. _One_ word, one syllable that echoed in ears that did not hear..._

_Craig._

_Bruises, slashes… hands that had touched. Hands that weren't _allowed_ to touch. _

_Craig._

_His finger was moving on its own to the impossibly cold metal of the trigger._

_Craig…_

_He was on fire, her voice cutting in at deafening cries before turning to little more than distant echoes. It was shifting, another voice uniting… _liquefying_ with _hers. _Her. __**Her**__ was always here. _**She** _was new… _

_**She's**__ voice overpowered __**hers **__in one terrifyingly clear moment._

_CRAIG!_

_His finger squeezed the trigger._

Boone shot up, painfully disorientated and panicked as he gasped for air, momentarily unaware of his surroundings. His eyes caught the stunned look of a young private before everything flooded back to him and he shakily leaned himself back down, his hand unsteadily rubbing his sweaty face. He was soaked and he knew better than to think it was just the heat.

"God damn it…" he rasped through his quivering lips. After he had been able to slow his exploding heartbeat he let his hand drop from his face, surprised when he felt it land on something soft beneath his arm. He looked down to see Lyra lying beside him, her body pathetically curled up against his side, her hands acting as pillows beneath her head. His eyes transfixed on the bullet wound in her forehead, partially obstructed by the wavy golden strands that entwined her battered and bandaged fingers.

_Oh, God…_

Craig jumped up and bolted to behind a rock face, the sight of Lyra's scar prompting violent, panic-ridden dry heaving. He fell to his hands and knees, bringing his hands up from the dust to smother his face. His dreams… his _nightmares_… were nothing new to him. _This_ was.

_Get it together, god damn it!_

He nodded to himself, slowly pulling his body up from the Mojave's warm earth and made his way back to where Lyra lay. He was sore as all hell. It was bright out and the troops were flashing curious stares his way. Lyra and he needed to move out, Boone having become exceptionally uncomfortable in their current environment. Carefully he crouched down over her sleeping form, gulping hard as he resisted the new wave of nausea he felt as his hand tentatively reached for her shoulder. He gently shook her.

"Hey… hey, wake up. Lyra…"

The girl stirred, a soft groan coming from her lips as she squeezed her eyes shut even tighter, her brow deepening into a frown as she burrowed her face into her arm.

"Five more minutes, poppa…"

_Poppa?_

"Come on, Lyra… we have to get back to Novac."

Slowly Lyra's brow softened and Boone watched as her green eyes peered at him groggily from beneath her blonde tresses. She sighed softly and closed them as she struggled to push her torso off the ground, Boone reaching down with his good arm to assist her. She sat up and began to rub her eyes before hissing in pain, a look of frustration inching across her features as she pulled them away.

"Too bad… thought it was a dream," She whispered.

Boone stiffened briefly and nodded, standing to his feet. He made his way to where they had stowed their packs before the assault, opening them to ensure all of their items were inside. Novac wasn't far from here but they were both wounded; he hoped they didn't encounter much resistance in the wastes while making their trip. He found what he had been specifically looking for and pulled it out of his pack as he walked over to Lyra, dropping her own pack in front of her before crouching down again and handing her a bottle of water. Lyra smiled gratefully and took it, hungrily twisting off the cap before she chugged more than half. She passed it to Boone who finished the rest of its contents.

"Alright, I'm ready," She said, standing to her feet as she gingerly pulled her pack onto her back, her hands loosely carrying her rifle.

"Good. We should speak to Milo before we go, see if he has any supplies he can spare… I think he owes us," Craig said as they made their way to where the Ranger had been sitting when they arrived. Milo noticed them coming and got up from his seat; he had clearly been sending out a report over the radio.

"Good sleep, kids?" He quipped as they approached. He held out his hand to Boone who shook it solidly, Milo opting to politely rest a hand on Lyra's upper arm rather than shake her injured hands.

"Good enough. We're leaving now," Boone explained.

Milo nodded resolutely, "I understand. I can't believe we pulled that action off last night…. But I'm grateful. Are you sure you want to leave? Now that we'll be retaking the camp, we'll have beds and food to offer you," Milo said, rubbing his hands together.

"It's tempting Milo… but we both have uh… homes in Novac and it will be dark soon enough. It's not far, I'm sure we'll manage," Lyra explained, smiling approvingly at the Ranger, "We appreciate the offer, though."

"Well alright then. Listen… it's going to be big news that we took Nelson back once it gets amongst the NCR troops, something I'm sure you can appreciate Craig," He tipped his hat to Boone, "I'll make sure credit is given where due."

Boone nodded, "Do you have any supplies to spare Milo? I know you guys were in a tight position but even a few bottles of spare water would do us just fine."

The Ranger nodded to Lyra and made his way to where his desk and chair were, reaching into a footlocker beneath it and pulled out a Brahmin hide bag. He tossed it to Boone who opened it, Lyra looking curiously inside. Boone smirked appreciatively at its contents and nodded at Milo in thanks.

"You two watch yourselves out there, now. I suspect these Legion bastards are gonna have their panties in quite the knot about this," Milo warned as Lyra and Boone began to make their way up the road. Lyra let out a snort and nodded, waving over her shoulder at the Ranger as she and Boone continued on. The two walked slowly; it was late afternoon but they had more than enough time to get to Novac with the benefit of a perfect, sunny day. It had been nearly an hour of walking before Lyra finally spoke, Boone so focused on keeping a close watch on their surroundings that her voice had made him jump.

_Only a little._

"I'm sorry I used your name last night."

The random apology from Lyra's lips surprised Boone but rattled him at the same time; his memories of the previous night's battle and his dream confusedly mixing behind his eyes. He blinked and lightly shook his head, turning to look at Lyra as she cast her gaze downwards, characteristically chewing her bottom lip. He sighed and turned his gaze back to the horizon.

"It's fine."

"Put your rifle away, I can handle keeping watch while we move. Your arm needs rest," Lyra admonished, adjusting her grip on her own rifle. Boone contemplated resisting but shrugged, admitting to himself that his arm was smarting like a son of a bitch. He winced a little as he slung the weapon into his back holster and decided to pick up his pace, Lyra doing the same. Boone felt like he could sleep for a week and was anxious to return to Novac, regardless of his dislike and misgivings of the town.

"Ugh, I think I see a few bloatflies up ahead," Lyra scoffed, turning to Boone when he began to reach painfully for his rifle. She put a hand firmly on his back, holding it in his holster.

"I don' think so. I hardly need you to take care of them. Besides," She cocked a grin at him, "They're good target practice."

"Then you won't mind if I observe and evaluate," Boone stated, a smirk cutting across his face. Lyra rolled her eyes at him and hefted her rifle up as they drew closer; the zippy giant bug's zigzagging their way towards them. Lyra let out a burst of fire, her first few rounds going wide until midburst they obliterated the pair of insects, Lyra smirking toothily as she gunned them down. She turned to Boone, slinging her rifle's strap over her shoulder as she looked at him mockingly expectant.

"And?"

"Sloppy. You wasted rounds by not anticipating their flight path, shots too wide."

"You're a dick."

Boone snorted breathily.

"Not a bag?"

"Remind me to never ask your overly critical ass anything ever again," Lyra growled angrily though Boone could tell she was exaggerating for the sake of fun.

"Asking is not necessary; I enjoy pointing out your failures to you."

Lyra barked out a laugh and threw a playful smile his way, "Shut up. I take back what I said; I liked you better when you _didn't_ talk."

"You don't really mean that."

"I do, actually."

"Negative – that would be too _convenient_ for me," Boone stifled a chuckle as he dodged Lyra's incoming fists, noting she was careful to avoid his injuries but landed a solid jab into his tender ribs.

"Just shut up already," She hissed as she jogged away from him, fearing his retaliation, "besides… I can see that stupid dinosaur. Did you still want to stay at the motel with me? You could probably get away with sleeping in your own room."

Boone stared off at the growing statue in the distance, knowing Manny would be watching Lyra and Boone approach from the horizon and wondered if he'd take a shot, "No… I'll take the couch again – we're safer together."

Lyra shrugged and they marched on, entering the limits of the town in less than fifteen minutes. Boone was relieved Manny had not fired at them; it meant they were still in decent standing in the town. If Lyra had been right about Ranger Andy then the man had kept their secret for them. Boone didn't bother raising his head to look at the mouth of the statue; he didn't want to invite any unwanted attention from the man contained within. He followed Lyra up the steps of the motel and wearily to the door, Lyra unlocking it and then promptly dumping everything to the floor so she could throw herself on the bed.

"New found appreciation… _every time_," She muttered into the pillows as Craig began to unbuckle the straps to his holsters and packs. He stowed the gear neatly into a corner of the room then walked to the couch, slumping down onto it not unlike Lyra had to the bed. He bent over and began unlacing his boots, slowly kicking them off before tucking them side by side. He heard rustling and looked up from his seated position, a teasing disgusted look plastered across Lyra's face.

"Ew, your feet smell."

Boone cocked his eyebrow at her, "Yeah? You don't exactly smell pleasant yourself."

Lyra sat up and shrugged, crossing her legs beneath her as she began to carefully remove the gauze and bandages that were around her wounds. Boone stood from the couch and sat on the bed beside her, impatiently pulling her hands away before he began to do it himself.

"What the…" He muttered in shock as each bandage he removed showed an almost fully healed wound beneath. He looked up at Lyra questioningly only to see an equally shocked look on her face.

"What the _hell?_" She gasped herself, pulling her limbs from Boone's grasp as she began to literally rip the gauze from her hands and arms. As each piece of the stained cloth was removed more and more of Lyra's flesh was exposed, nothing more than light pink scars or fading bruises remaining.

"Impossible," Boone breathed, "You sustained these injuries less than ten hours ago… Even advanced Stimpak's wouldn't prompt such speedy healing."

Lyra shook her head, her mouth moving mutely as she struggled to find words.

"I…I don't understand, I remember the medic treating me… a Stimpak was about as sophisticated as it got," She explained as she carefully inspected her scarred flesh. She flexed her fingers agilely before her eyes. Boone was unnerved; he had found it nothing short of amazing the dog's powerful jaws had failed to crush any of her tiny digits but this was just downright… _weird._

"When we get to New Vegas, I'm taking you somewhere."

Lyra looked at him, Boone noting the barely contained fear behind her eyes before they went alarmingly blank… before they rapidly changed to panic.

"What do you mean _taking_ me somewhere? Like a lab? Somewhere where they can _cut _me and stick unpleasant, horrible _things_ into me a-and-and…" She shook her head, her hands darting to entangle in her hair as she shook violently. Boone was caught off-guard by the sudden reaction to his innocent suggestion and reached for her, firmly grasping her upper arms between his large hands. Lyra continued to shake until it turned into full blown struggles in his grip.

_I just meant the god damned doctor's office._

"No, please… please I don't want to… it hurts…"

The pathetic way Lyra was begging alarmed Boone and disturbed him simultaneously, his own memories spurred to life by her voice and words. Boone shook his own head to clear his thoughts, positive that whatever was happening to Lyra was likely a flashback and he wasn't quite sure what to do about it.

"Lyra," He said calmly, "I'm not taking you anywhere like that – it's a medical clinic, I just think you should be checked out in case you're sick."

Lyra's struggles exploded into a full blown attack and Boone grunted when the effort to contain her began to set his wounds on fire.

_Jesus Christ, what the _hell _has been done to this woman?_

"That's what you said last time! Please…No. No!"

_Who said that last time, Lyra…_

Boone gave up and snapped his hands away from her flesh, getting off the bed and stepping away from her onslaught. His shaky hand slid to his head as he pushed his beret off and anxiously rubbed his buzzed scalp. Lyra curled into a tight ball on the bed and broke down into sobs, her leanly muscled arms tucking her body deeper into herself. He decided to attempt a different route as he was genuinely shaken by what he saw happening in front of him.

"Alright, Lyra… I won't then. If you don't want to go… we don't have to. I'm sorry," He breathed, watching her carefully as the words had a bizarre, near instant effect on the girl. Immediately her body ceased to shake and she lay still, her only movement being her hands as they grasped the bed sheets closer to her face. She and Boone remained the way they were for several minutes, the only sound in the room being the creaks of the old water pipes and Lyra's shaky breaths.

"I'm _so_ sorry, Boone…" She whispered. Craig breathed a sigh of relief through his nose and tentatively approached the bed again. He sat down beside her.

"What the hell was that, Lyra?" He asked evenly.

"I don't know…"

"Was it a memory? Did you understand it?"

"I don't know, Boone."

"How can you _not_ know?"

Lyra shot him a desperate plea with her eyes, "I don't want to talk about it… please."

"Lyra, _think _– it was obviously something from your past."

Lyra sighed deeply and pulled herself off the bed. Craig shot her a perturbed look as she slowly walked over to the washroom, pausing in the doorway.

"I have _never_ demanded youdivulge the horrors in your life that I _know_ you keep from me…"

"Lyra…"

Lyra shot Boone a terribly sad look, "At least you know where yours come from."

Boone winced at the sound of the door slamming behind her and gritted his teeth in frustration, a growl emitting from the depths of his throat. He heard the water for the bath begin to run and buried his face into the palm of his hand, feeling sufficiently like a prick. It was true, though Lyra had attempted to ask questions she had never been forceful, she had always backed off when he had denied her. It irritated the ever living shit out of him but he of all people should have understood her.

_She had said "you said that last time" – what the hell does that mean? Was she experimented on? Is she some freak of post-apocalyptic nature?_

Boone couldn't contain his urge to find out – so much of this woman was an enigma, the discovery of her strange healing ability the catalyst to his behavior. In the process though, he had disrespected her. There may be many things of ill repute that Boone had committed in his life, all of which he knew continued to pay for… but Lyra… Lyra did not deserve the same fate as he. The woman was as haunted and broken as he was and Boone felt a deep sorrow he would never admit to with that truth.

Lyra was right; Boone may have a deep-seeded hatred for himself… but he knew _why_. Whatever Lyra had just remembered would be nothing but a confusing fragment, its clear brutality enough for even Boone to wish it was not hers. Craig couldn't help but feel he had unintentionally invaded something very private with what he witnessed and felt irritated when his conscious whispered an idea from the further reaches of his mind.

_Face it, shithead; you've got an affinity with this girl. You _owe_ her that much at least. _

Lyra leaned back in the tub and let out a long sigh, grateful for the mostly warm water that surrounded her. She closed her eyes and sunk under the water, blowing air bubbles from her nose as she plunged under the surface.

_Don't even._

She gasped when she surfaced, irritated with herself. No… no, she wasn't going to end it. The healing thing had been weird enough… but the memory trigger it led to was overwhelming. Whatever the fuck had just happened to her was brutal, horrifying and downright _embarrassing_ but not worthy of _that_.

_Nothing quite like having a paralyzing emotional breakdown in front of a near stranger, though. And _speaking _of that stranger…_

He was a prick. Lyra was floored by Boone's behavior; she understood he had originally intended to be helpful, but his boorish persistence had been completely uncalled for, if not hugely out of character. It confused her to an irritating degree – she had come out of the crippling memory with the only comfort that Boone had _clear_ horrific memories of his own he struggled with. She had not anticipated his reaction.

_The man was in shock, Lyra._

Lyra blew a raspberry in response to her conscious's convenient return. It was true; when she had come out of the daze Boone had an aberrant appearance of _panic_ across his features. He had tried to console her, to calm her… and she had only twisted in pathetic fear under his grasp, lashing out at him physically. Though his faux pas had been irritating, Lyra could not with good conscious blame the man for his urge to _help_ her.

Lyra made up her mind as she pulled herself out of the tub, glad she had forced herself to just sit and _think_ rationally. For all she knew, sharing the nightmare with Boone would help her in deciphering the memory… her only discomfort being the fact she would have to be detailed in her description. Lyra wasn't exactly feeling _up_ to another trip down memory lane, but she knew she owed it to Boone.

_Necessary evil, girl. Get out there._

She rolled her eyes at herself as she dried off and pulled on her leather pants, deciding to leave her crumpled jacket and filthy shirt on the floor. It wasn't that she was deliberately trying to be indecent in front of Boone, her spare clothing was in the dresser but beyond that, the man wa– _had _been married. It wasn't anything he likely hadn't already seen. She took a deep breath and opened the bathroom door, heading straight for the dresser but not before she saw Boone raise his head from his chest, his hands still clasped his lap as he sat on the couch.

"Lyra…" He breathed but Lyra cut him off.

"Just… let me get a shirt on…"She blushed at the apologetic look in his eyes and then blushed _deeper_ when she saw his own cheeks grow red before he turned away from the view in front of him. Lyra pulled open the drawer and rummaged for one of the few shirts she had stowed away, nodding triumphantly when she found a faded black tee. She pulled it over her head and felt her breath catch when she caught Boone's eyes trailing her figure, unaware she had caught him staring. Immediately she felt ashamed; the man had lost his _wife_ and while she did not have seedy intentions by being topless in front of him, she felt she had been disrespectful to both he and his wife's memory. She cleared her throat and turned fully around to Boone and he met her eyes evenly.

"Look… I… I'm sorry, Boone. I was overwhelmed and… I just did _not_ feel I was in the right place mentally to talk about it," She let out breathily, folding her arms together as she sat on the bed across from him. Boone looked at her thoughtfully, the remorseful look still behind his eyes.

"No, I shouldn't have pressured you. For that I apologize," He turned his head to the side, focusing on nothing in particular, "And… I don't want you to tell me what you remembered. I don't need to know, not yet. I'm keeping that on your terms."

Lyra shook her head, "I… want to talk to you about it, actually…"

Boone turned his head back to her direction and took in a deep breath before he clamped his hands onto his thighs, "Then I'm going first."

_Huh?_

"What do you mean?"

"I met Carla on the strip," Boone began, Lyra feeling gob smacked. He must have noticed the dumb struck look on her face as he began to look irritated, "Look, do you want to hear this or not? If I can save the breath, I will. You won't get this offer again."

"No, I'm sorry… just surprised."

"That makes two of us," Boone sighed and continued, "As I said… I met Carla on the Strip when I was on leave. She said I looked lost. She talked a lot. Suited me fine - I... never know what to say. And listening to her… it could make you forget," Boone nearly whispered and Lyra wondered what it exactly was Boone had to forget about _before_ his wife was taken from him.

_Bitter Springs?_

"She stuck out, pretty much everywhere we went. Like she was from a different time. A better time. I never met anyone like her…"

"What… _really_ happened to her?" Lyra whispered.

"I came home after my shift and knew immediately what had happened. There are a lot of sick people out here… but the only faction to ever kidnap were slavers which meant Legion," Boone cracked his knuckles uncomfortably, "I set out, followed the trail as best as I could. As a sniper for the NCR, I had to track down my targets on a regular basis. When their trail finally ended it had lead me to a place southeast called Cottonwood Cove…"

Lyra gasped, "That's the place that Legionnaire had…" she trailed off as Boone looked at her, nodding slowly, "Sorry… continue."

"I set up my nest in the cliffs high above the camp. I waited three days – I saw no sign of Carla until the third," His jaw clenched tightly, "She… was being sold. As a slave. The Legion has no use for women aside from breeding stock and slavery… the way they treat them is deplorable. I _watched_ as they began to auction off _my _wife… and I began to realize the chances of rescuing her were…" He trailed off, his voice cracking as he said the next words, "So I took the shot."

Lyra brought her hand to her mouth and felt a tear cascade down her cheek. The two sat in a heavy silence for a while, Lyra struggling to keep her breathing leveled as what the man had just told her sunk in.

_His wife. His _pregnant_ wife._

"When… I look at you… I think of her," Boone whispered coarsely.

_A constant reminder for both of us._

"It's the scar…isn't it?"

Boone slowly nodded.

"You did… the best thing you could have. There was no good or bad COICE, Boone… just what was necessary," Lyra said unsure of how to console the man across from her. Her own emotions and thoughts on the matter were difficult to convey. She knew Boone had exercised the only option he had had… but god damn it was it ever _tragic._

"I'm so sorry, Craig…"

Lyra saw his jaw flex at the use of his first name but he spoke calmly, "I'm… tired. I know you wanted to talk to me… but I think we can agree we need some rest," Boone said evenly to Lyra. She nodded silently in agreement as Boone stood, turning his back to her as he began to peel off his shirt and reach into his pack for a clean one. Lyra watched him change unabashedly, her eyes not focused on him to see his muscular back be covered by the threadbare shirt; she just had never felt such profound compassion for someone before.

_From now on… it's not just about what__** I**__ have to do._

Lyra sighed and laid back on the mattress, pulling the blankets over herself as she began to unbuckle her leather pants. She awkwardly kicked them loose of her legs as Boone flicked off the lights, walked back over to the couch and lay with his hands behind his head upon it. Lyra gave a final wiggle, finally kicking the pants loose and onto the floor before turning on her side. She carefully studied the man's face while his own eyes remained trained to the ceiling.

_I'm going to find him the raddest sunglasses I can get my hands on._

"Hey Boone?"

"Hm?"

_Hope I'm not walking on broken glass with this one…_

"Did you ever…. Tell Carla about Bitter Spring's?"

Boone was silent for a minute, Lyra holding her breath.

"No. I wanted to… I just couldn't."

Lyra squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath, the emotions tumbling up and over as she fought desperately to stifle her tears. She was at the end of her rope for the night, the emotional rollercoaster off on one last pass. She couldn't take the way he had spoken – the small, helpless voice coming from _him_ sent her over the edge. She buried her face deeply into her blankets, ashamed and embarrassed once again that night. She heard the couches' springs creak in relief.

"Hey…"

Lyra shook her head and attempted to physically _shove_ her head through the mattress at the sound of Boone's voice, her sobbing inconveniently thickening. Before her attempts yielded any success, she felt the bed dip and the familiar cries of protest from its springs as two thick arms wrapped around her. In shock Lyra remained motionless, Boone's warm breath on her forehead as she continued to cry in his arms.

"Just let it out. At least one of us can," He whispered, Lyra taking a deep, strangled breath as she sobbed, burying his face into _him_ instead. Her own arms were pressed tightly against his chest as he held her, a large hand rubbing her back. Lyra cried unabashedly, repeatedly apologizing to Boone – for crying but mainly for Carla.

"It's alright… I'll go back to the couch once you're asleep…. So calm down," Boone instructed, the feel of his warm palm on her back soothing Lyra's sobs. She nodded into his chest, her one small hand grasping the fabric of his shirt as her shakes diminished and she had little more than a few sniffles and hiccups.

By the time it was silent in the dingy motel room… both were fast asleep.


	9. Interlude

This was the second time he'd woken with the girl beside him.

_Watch it._

Boone scoffed at his own scolding conscious and sat up in the bed, his bare back resting against the headboard. He had intended to go back to the couch after the girl had fallen asleep - the fact he hadn't left him distinctly uncomfortable. Last night shouldn't have happened; he'd been irrational. He didn't want this to get… messy. The girl meant little to him beyond a means to an end…

_Right?_

Boone sighed and shook his head. That was what he had to keep telling himself, at least. He looked over at Lyra who was turned away from him, noticing the pink scar on her shoulder blade. It wasn't that he felt much for the girl, Boone had only felt _anything_ for one person in his life… and she was gone. Lyra was nothing more than a companion… and once she found what she was looking for… he had his own plans. Boone was aiming for efficiency with her; he knew her path had conveniently merged with his. He'd find what he was looking for one way or another.

_Unless it catches up with me first._

The hot shower was beckoning Boone so he cut the thinking and got up from the bed, making his way to the bathroom. He snatched the towel from the chair and pushed open the door, closing it behind him before running the taps. As he stood and began removing his clothing he couldn't help but find his thoughts back to the events of the previous night. The young courier had certainly remembered something but the implications of it left Boone admittedly concerned.

_Healing rate is through the roof; hands survived gettin' mauled by dogs not to mention a nine millimeter slug to the face. Yeah, I'd say the possibility of experimentation wouldn't be too left field. They were _already _in the left field, damn it._

Craig breathed a sigh of relief when he felt the hot water begin to cascade down his tired muscles. He leaned forward, both hands planted against the dirty tiles as he thought. It was getting damn exhausting wrestling with his conscious, but as he was beginning to find out, it was becoming a constant battle when it came to Lyra. He couldn't deny the two of them shared nightmares… but who didn't out in this hellhole? Post-apocalyptic life isn't exactly sunshine and puppies. Craig had never been much to talk to _anyone_ but he was certain walking into any saloon around the Mojave would yield you a few tragic tales.

_So why her?_

Because she had helped. Craig mulled over the thought as he began to lather up, absently appreciating the luxury of soap in Lyra's motel room. He admitted he could have just continued to rot in Novac, counting the hours and growing bitterness as the mind-numbing days droned on. He supposed Lyra had freed him of that certainty and it was enough to be grateful for. She had given him _purpose_, something he had felt horribly trapped at a dead end with prior to her arrival. He had _wanted_ to uncover more about Carla but the truth was Boone could do little more than intimidate people away the moment the topic came up. He'd had little success in the town other than receiving awkward, terrified stares and gaping mouths.

_Never was a _people_ person._

Lyra had breezed past that, she had brought him the affirmation he required to move on to the next step. The truth was Boone hadn't really expected it. He had been drowning; stuck at a perpetual standstill that had driven him to near breaking point. Sometimes, alone in what _used_ to be a warm home -his _reprieve _of all the thoughts that haunted his conscience – he would privately crumble under the pressure. Carla was gone, his _future_… his _child._ Boone hadn't seen the point. Still didn't really.

He reached for the taps and turned them off, dropping his chin to his chest as he squeezed his eyes shut. He was grateful Lyra had arrived when she did. Carla would have wanted him to do something meaningful. Avenging her death was fundamentally necessary to Craig but he knew Carla would have argued against it. He grappled with his murderous intentions, his voice of reason always frustratingly conflicting with his impulsions. Helping Lyra was as close to a compromise for Carla as he could get. He had a feeling Lyra intended to do some good in this world… and if Boone got to meet his end with a few hundred legionnaires' at his feet in the process… hell, he'd take it.

He nodded to himself as he wrapped the towel around his waist, opening the bathroom door to retrieve his pack, his hand searching for the leather sheath that held his straight razor as he walked back to the bathroom. Lyra was still asleep. He took a moment to pull the blankets back over her feet before he made his way back to shave. He hated the way the sand irritated his skin as his stubble grew in and in the Mojave, sand got _everywhere._ He slid the razor carefully along his chin, nicking himself when the sound of the beds' springs startled him.

"God damn it."

A tousled hair and sleepy Lyra appeared in the doorway beside him. She gave him an awkward, lop-sided grin and ran a hand through her hair, "Mornin'."

Boone didn't bother to look at her, opting to return to shaving as he nodded in the mirror.

'Um, about last night…" Lyra began but Boone closed his eyes in frustration and set his hands down on the sinks counter.

"Can I shave, please?"

"Sure. Who pissed in your sugar bombs today?"

Craig didn't dignify her ridiculous question with an answer and went back to gliding the razor along his face. He didn't feel like talking about last night. Not yet. He knew Lyra was eager to tell him now what it was exactly she had remembered but Boone could put puzzle pieces together. He had an idea of what had happened to her, more of an assumption really, but it was one he wasn't keen on bringing up again. Lyra was clearly unstable in that regard and until they could find something more concrete, he needed her as whole as possible.

_Yeah. How you gonna tell her? "Hey, balls about the traumatic past thing but I frankly don't give a shit"?_

As tempting as it was to treat the matter in that way, Boone couldn't see himself going through with it. She had genuinely cared when he had regrettably told her about Carla. The admission had now put him at a disadvantage and it irritated him; it wasn't like him to say much of anything. The truth was though, he did give a shit about Lyra and he couldn't deny his curiosity regarding _her _past.

He rinsed his face and carefully shrugged the shoulder of his injured arm, relieved to feel the discomfort was at nothing more than a sharp ache. He wasn't exactly sure what time it was but judging by the light coming into the motel room, he and Lyra had gotten a solid amount of sleep. He pulled a fresh shirt and his dirty fatigues on, buckling his belt as he wrestled with the idea of suggesting they head out today. It was quite a hike to New Vegas… wound be damned, he wanted it over and done with.

"Lyra, I think we should head out today," He said as he went to toss his pack back by the door. Lyra looked up from the plastic wrapped snack cake she was nibbling on at the table, her free hand poking the plate with his own cakes towards him. He joined her, hungrily ripping open the plastic wrapped pastry. They ate in silence, Lyra clearly mulling over his suggestion. She finally swallowed and looked at him.

"Boone, I just don't think it would be wise – are you sure you'll be able to use your rifle?"

Boone was affronted, "Been hit worse. Made it through worse. I'll be fine."

Lyra shrugged, "Whatever. You know your limits better than I do, I just don't want us in a tight spot."

"My effectiveness won't change; I've got it under control."

Lyra twitched her eyebrow as she took a bite out of her second cake, brushing crumbs from the corner of her lips, "We'll resupply and head out then, get to New Vegas and find a place to stay. We'll make up for lost rest time there, I guess."

Another awkward silence fell between them as they finished their stale breakfast. Lyra scowled in revulsion and threw down the rest of her snack cake to her plate, fixing her intense gaze onto Boone.

"Look, I don't care if you want to hear it, but I need to talk to you about last night."

_Christ._

"Fine. What do you want to say?" Boone replied, putting down his own breakfast as he leaned back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. He hated not having his shades.

Lyra bit her lip and Craig couldn't help noticing the deepening hue of her cheeks, "I wanted to apologize for my behavior before we fell asleep. I wasn't trying to make you uncomfortable. After… hearing about Carla… I feel guilty," She sighed to herself and timidly smiled at Boone, "It wasn't my intention to coerce you into-…shit... I don't even know how to explain it."

Boone was surprised by the girl's apology, expecting her to blast full steam ahead into a deep and disturbing discussion about her less-than-pleasant past. This… was different. Craig didn't know how to react. He understood what the girl was trying to convey but he deemed it unnecessary. The actions had been his own. He wasn't coerced.

_And how exactly do you feel about _that_?_

"It's fine. Let's drop it," He noticed Lyra blink in surprise before he continued on, "What else did you want to talk about?"

"Uh… OK. About… about my flashback," She began.

_Here it comes._

"The truth is Boone… I thought about it while you were in the washroom and I… I really don't think I'm ready to go _back_ to it, you know? There are… so many confusing things swirling through my mind… I need to wait 'till I have a more solid understanding before I can fathom digging much deeper," She paused and absently fiddled with the crumbs on her plate, "I… just get lost anytime I try to think too much… try to remember…"

"I understand. Glad you feel that way," Boone didn't feel he had to explain himself further. He was just god damned relieved the girl had come to her senses on her own.

Lyra got up from the table and stretched, grabbing her own pack from the heap it was in by the door, "While I'm showering… you want to go resupply? We can head out when you return."

Boone nodded and shoved the last bite of his cake into his mouth, slapping his hands together to get the crumbs off as he grabbed his rifle from against the wall. He swiped Lyra's Cap pouch and made his way out the door, slightly hesitant about visiting Cliff's. As he pulled the battered door open, conversation flooded his ears before it suddenly cut off as he entered the small shop.

"Speak of the god damned devil."

"Manny, Cliff," Boone nodded his head in their direction as he approached them.

"Dragged your sorry ass back here, huh? Thanks for leaving me high and dry asshole," Manny quipped, Boone not taking the bait.

"Cliff, let me see what you got."

Cliff nodded resolutely and made his way back to his counter, unlocking the shelf beneath that contained his ammo supply. Boone stood uncomfortably before him, feeling Manny's gaze burning into him.

"Nothin' to say? Fuckin' figures, man."

"Leave it, Manny," Cliff advised sternly before turning his gaze back to Boone, "What exactly are you lookin' for Craig?"

"Three-oh-eights, five-sixes and some nine millimeter rounds if you have them, Cliff."

Manny made his way over to Boone, leaning against the countertop as he sneered up at him, "Oh… the _new bitch_ got you workin' now, boy?"

In a flash Craig had his hands gripping the man's collar; Manny's back slamming against the wall beside them. Cliff instantly pulled out the sawed-off he had tucked under the counter, pointing its barrel warily at Boone.

"Now, Craig… let's not be hasty here."

Craig felt his nostrils flare as hot air angrily blew out of them, his face inches from Manny's who had an equally pissed sneer across his features. His eye twitched as he slowly released the fabric of the man's collar, "You don't say a fuckin' thing to me, understood?"

"Yeah, brother. Loud and fuckin' clear," Manny scowled, wrenching himself away from Boone and making his way back to the stairs, "You better think twice about comin' back. Next time, I just might not _recognize_ you… or the whore you're travelling with," He threatened before climbing the stairs and slamming the door behind him.

Boone made to dart after him.

"Craig!" Cliff called out, his shotgun now steadily sighting him, "You get what you need from me then scram, this town's had enough trouble to last a while."

Boone grudgingly returned to the counter, tossed the caps he owed to Cliff and left, slamming the door behind him not unlike Manny.

_Fuck this fucking place, it was a mistake to even come back._

Boone was pissed. What the fuck else had he expected? He had cut his ties with Manny a long time ago, feeling no great loss at the removal of his first companion, but he and Lyra had effectively lost a safe house. Whatever they found in New Vegas would have to do and he wasn't particularly looking forward to it. Everywhere Lyra seemed to go held some distant attachment to Boone's miserable past and he struggled with the inconvenience of it all. When he pushed his way through the door of the motel room, he walked in on Lyra pulling on her scuffed leather pants. His eyes caught a flash of her creamy thighs and travelled up to a sheepish face before he turned his gaze and flung himself onto the couch.

"Take it that didn't go too swell?"

He responded with nothing more than a grunt as he began to distribute the ammunition, aside from his .308 rounds, evenly between them. Lyra shrugged and pulled her wet hair into a ponytail, opting to sit on the bed across from him.

"You sure you want to do this? It…. could wait."

"No. I want to leave."

"One question – once we reach New Vegas how exactly do we get in?"

"Have to go through Freeside. With the NCR it can be entered from Camp McCarran by monorail… Don't have that access anymore," Boone explained bitterly, fighting like fuck to fight back the tide of memories that were assaulting him, "Won't just let us in, though. Securitron's guard the gate."

"So how do you get in?"

"Caps… or a passport. Don't know if it changed – needed two thousand caps to get in last I heard."

"Where the hell am I going to get two thousand caps?" Lyra groaned, her hand anxiously playing with the tips of her pony tail, "No dice. What about this passport?"

"Not sure. Have to ask around once we get there."

Lyra got up off the bed and started gathering her things, carefully inspecting her own rifle after she had swung her pack onto her back. Boone did the same, the two of them nodding at each other before making their way to the door. Craig paused and turned to Lyra.

"Make sure you have everything. We should not return."

"Yeah… everything of value. So they know?" Lyra asked as she pointlessly locked the door behind them, the pair leaving the small courtyard of the motel and making their way to the main road.

"No. All the same, we're not welcome anymore."

"Awesome… Maybe we should just waste them all… "Lyra mused. Boone looked at her in repulsion.

"You're kidding."

Lyra blushed deeply before bowing her head, "No… no I didn't mean that. Just sorta came out."

Boone rolled his eyes, reminding himself that sometime's while the girl seemed to function decently enough … that shot to the head had addled her brain in more ways than just emotionally traumatizing her. He didn't suppose he'd ever get used to the quirks that came with a head wound.

"Hey… give me a second," Lyra muttered thoughtfully, Boone watching as she jogged up to the Merchant that was making her way through the town. Craig stopped a little further up the road, watching cautiously as the girl spoke to the woman, his eyebrow arching as he watched her pass Lyra a set of sunglasses and Lyra giving caps in return. She smiled at the woman and then marched her way back to Boone, an undeniable look of triumph across her features.

_Well god damn._

"Talk about beating the odds. Of all the merchants I could come across…" She breezed happily to herself before holding out the specs to Boone. He took them and inspected them appreciatively. They weren't as good as the ones he'd regrettably lost in Nelson, but they would suit him just fine. He slid them on and nodded to Lyra in thanks, relieved to have a small comfort returned to him.

"Thanks."

Lyra beamed and swung her rifle down from her shoulder, "No problem. Listen, keep your rifle holstered unless we absolutely need you to use it; I want your arm to get as much rest as we can spare."

The young courier strode past Boone, now well versed in his habit to hang behind her. He was relieved the girl had adjusted to his preference – he would keep an even closer eye out as he'd be taking into account his slower drawing rate. He knew the trip to New Vegas from Novac could take well over a day and a half and he fully intended to get them there in one piece. Once they were in the cut-throat town… he wasn't so sure. He knew Lyra would be likely dealing with the Casino Families and that unnerved him – the Families were snakes and murderers and if it was one of them which had wronged Lyra, he wasn't so sure of them getting out alive.

_Let's hope you continue to defy the odds, courier._


	10. Beans, beans

Lyra could see the bizarre tower looming over the rubble of a city around them, relieved that their little gallivants across the Wasteland was coming to an end. She was tired, sore and low on ammo. More importantly though, it had been nothing short of terrifying. When Lyra and Boone had been on the road for over a day, they had approached a town called Sloan where they were promptly informed that the road and surrounding area were unsafe. Lyra couldn't remember if she had ever witnessed or even heard of a Deathclaw before but Boone's clear discomfort instilled more than a little alarm. Deciding they would go around, Boone had insisted on taking point, muttering something about "better eyes" before keeping a not-too-far distance between him and Lyra.

The man had been explicably on edge until it all came to a head when Boone had randomly _sprinted_ back to Lyra, tossing _all_ of his weight into her, the pair crashing into a gully as Boone simultaneously rolled them behind a rock face. He had pinned her there, his shallow breathing warm on the side of her neck as he shielded her. Just as Lyra had attempted to speak in protest a large, calloused hand had covered her mouth...

_"Be quiet." Boone mouthed, his eyes staring at hers imploringly as he held her body tight between him and the hard rock face, his hand reaching up to slowly pull off his beret and clench it in his fist._

_Lyra's eyes darted between him and whatever she could see over his hulking shoulders... nothing but starry night sky. She remained silent for well over ten minutes before she was starting to get irritated. She was _just_ cocking her eyebrow in doubt when a guttural, _dangerous _rumble_ _echoed in the near distance, peppered with a sharp exhale of air not unlike a Big Horn or Brahmin. But __**bigger**__. Her breath caught in her throat and she could feel Boone press himself even closer to her, his face looking as if set in stone. Lyra felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand as she listened to heavy footsteps approach. These footfalls were nothing she had ever heard before, their pounding of the Mojave's dirt accompanied by a strange clicking, scratchy sound. Lyra could not control her body when she began to shake and couldn't afford her surprise when Boone cradled her even closer, practically smothering her. They lay like that as the footsteps came… and went. Lyra did not dare move or barely breathe until Boone did and had lost track of time when he had finally pulled himself off of her. He looked warily over his shoulder, cocking his head towards the direction the sounds had disappeared to before turning back to Lyra, a finger to his lips. _

_ "Shh. Just follow me. Go slow. Run when I tell you to," he instructed, rising to a low crouch before he began scurrying in the direction they had intended to head in. Lyra felt a moment of abject terror, her heart nearly exploding out of her chest before she followed suit, her prey instincts telling her to just _book it.

_ "Run," Boone whispered, standing from his crouched position, flashing Lyra n pleading stare when she hesitated, "I'll be right behind you." _

_Lyra took off, her adrenaline pushing her legs to the limit, finding herself _very _aware of her pack pounding against her back. She ran as long as she possibly could, her barely contained terror spurring her on like a cracking whip on her back. When she finally felt like she could run no more, Boone had hissed at her to slow down and stop. She collapsed to the ground in shakes, barely containing the bile sitting uncomfortably in her throat. Boone crouched down beside her, his face equally flushed as he pulled his beret back over his scalp. _

_ "And that, Lyra… was a Deathclaw."_

Lyra barely contained a shiver at the recent memory. She hadn't even seen the damn thing and it had spooked her out of her skin.

_Because it scared _him.

The two had barely spoken the rest of the trip, Lyra still reeling from the ordeal and Boone clearly dealing with his own after effects. The two were on extreme edge, their guns cocking at every little noise they had heard as they had begun combing the crumbling ruins surrounding New Vegas. Lyra was curious to find out what a Deathclaw actually looked like but Boone was clearly not in a lecturing mood beyond combat commands. They had met some resistance in the ruins from a couple of yahoo's with dead animal skulls on their heads; Boone and Lyra had finished them off quickly, Lyra looting their bodies and finding a ridiculous amount of chems on them. Boone had then explained to her about the group of raiders called Fiends that populated the outer ruins of New Vegas. He hardly seemed phased, however.

"Just a bunch of chem'd out assholes," he had growled.

Lyra smiled bemusedly to herself and tinkered with her Pip-Boy briefly, stifling a laugh when she found it had a program that could monitor addictions. Lyra was wary of the chems but at the same time fought a nagging curiosity. Immediately her conscious clamped down on the thought before it could fully manifest, not from some crushing morality but from the actuality of her already damaged psyche.

_Yeah. Huffin' the red dragon would probably fuck my shit up._

A snort escaped her sinuses with the thought before she hissed, feeling something sharply ping off the back of her calf.

"Ow!"

She turned to find Boone grinning like a bastard.

"Asshat! If you want attention, just ask," Lyra growled, awkwardly reaching down to rub the back of her leg. Boone huffed smugly.

"Your insults become more colourful everyday."

Lyra rolled her eyes and readjusted her grip on her rifle, "And you're like the kid in the sandbox who throws sand in girls eyes because he likes them."

Boone scoffed, "Hardly… I guarantee it was for amusement."

"I'm sure."

Boone cleared his throat, Lyra detecting a faint sense of goofy awkwardness before he spoke again, "Gate to Freeside shouldn't be far. "

"Yeah. I was checking that on my Pip-Boy before you politely interrupted."

Boone jogged up to her as they approached a large set of rusted red gates. He grabbed the handles and yanked them open for Lyra. Immediately the smell of smoke and something more pungent assaulted her nostrils.

"Ugh, is everyone dead?"

Boone cocked his eyebrow at her, "No. That's the smell of overcrowding," Boone grunted as he pulled the gate closed behind them, catching up to Lyra who was curiously looking into each boarded up or broken window. She felt a terrible sense of loss and she couldn't place why… 

"You new to town, stranger?"

Lyra nearly jumped out of her skin, turning to the source of the voice.

_I didn't even see them!_

She warily eyed the three people before her, each dressed in some form of armor,"Uh… well ye-"

"She's with me," Boone interjected as he came to her side.

"Freeside's a dangerous place… it would be worth your caps for an extra set of eyes," The man in the ridiculous metal armor drawled, "Hundred caps… and I'll see you safely make it to The Strip."

"I don't think so," Boone growled, hooking his arm around Lyra's and pulling her away. Lyra was caught off-guard from the physical contact, stumbling awkwardly beside him.

"Hey, he wanted to help…"

Boone stopped and warily scanned the surrounding decrepit buildings, "No. They want to take your Caps and gut you in an alleyway. Everyone in this town is a thug - you better remember it."

Lyra was taken aback by the severity of Boone's tone, "Jeeze okay… rough experience or something?"

"No. You hear things in the NCR. See things. You don't trust shit here, Lyra," He muttered, Lyra noting that his finger was remaining poised over the trigger of his rifle, "This is close quarters. Even unwounded, quick draw with a rifle is tricky. Pay attention. Look down streets as you approach them and do not leave my side."

Lyra nodded, gulping down the influx of nerves she was feeling. This place didn't feel dangerous... it just felt sad and broken. As the two of them walked, Lyra gaped at children eating a giant rodent in the middle of the street and countless beggars who lined the curbs moaning in despair. Lyra looked down at her Pip-Boy to check the time, noticing the sky was growing darker and darker. They needed a place to stay; there was no way they would make it _into_ the strip today. No caps. No passport.

"Boone… we need someplace to stay. I want to hold off with the Strip until tomorrow. Can you think of anywhere?" She asked, her senses still oddly far away, even to herself. Everything around her felt _wrong_ and her growing panic to the irrational sensation was eating at her. Sure, she felt terrible for the people who were living in the squalor but it was something more… something that kept slipping from her touch the second she tried to put a finger on it. Boone hadn't responded yet and Lyra wondered if she had said anything at all.

_Say __**nothing.**_

"Boone?"

The man turned his gaze onto her and something changed in his face, a soft expression Lyra had never seen before diminishing the creases, "Lyra… what's wrong?"

"I… I don't know," She whispered desperately as Craig approached her, his arm reaching out to put a coarse hand on the arm of her leather jacket. Lyra felt like his touch was sucking her back to somewhere she didn't know.

_**Been here**__. When? Can't remember. You __**should**__._

"I know somewhere. Not far. They'll take us in."

_How could you __**forget**__? I didn't. Or maybe I did. I forget._

"This place doesn't feel… right," Lyra muttered absently as Boone slid his rifle into its holster on his back, "I don't feel right…"

_It's not right what they did to you. Not fair. Not __**natural**__. Did what?_

"Give me your nine_ mil_."

Lyra vaguely nodded and reached into her holster, smoothly pulling out the handgun before handing it to Boone. He checked to make sure it was loaded and marched ahead, his hip nearly touching Lyra's. As they walked Lyra felt disoriented from the battle her conscious and sub-conscious were engaged in.

_ You __**will**__ do as I say. Why? _

"Ugh," Lyra groaned softly, her one hand reaching up to rub her temple just as the clap of her nine millimeter reverberated in her ear drums, "Ahhh!" She cried out, squeezing her eyes shut as she pulled away from the source of the sound. Boone was shooting something. Or someone.

"Stay with me."

The sound of Boone's steady voice cracked into Lyra's disjointed thoughts and she clung to it desperately.

"Boone… keep talking… p-please…"

"I'm here."

_Thank you, __**thank you**__._

"It's close. Stay with me. Stay with me," Boone hushed into her ears, Lyra numbly aware of his free arm slinking around her waist, a warm hand gripping her ribcage. She was unsure of the time it took them to arrive but she found herself suddenly standing before a set of huge, ancient wooden doors. She scanned her eyes over the building, noting it's crumbling but still standing walls. She knew this place.

_How? How the fuck __**how?**_

__"I know this place…" She mewed as Boone pushed his second set of heavy doors open for the day, leading Lyra into a scrambling courtyard that was full of people. Lyra dimly noticed the tents that were set up along the surrounding walls before a woman in an impressive hat and leather duster turned to approach them.

"Oh my god," Lyra gasped, the sight of the woman's face alarming her, unable to resist the urge to bring a hand to her mouth. Boone calmly pushed it down and gave her ribs a squeeze as he holstered Lyra's nine millimeter back to her thigh.

"Relax. It's a ghoul and I need you to behave," He instructed.

"You folks need help?" She asked with an alarmingly gravelly voice. Coupled with Lyra's cranial assault, the grisly sight of the woman's face was throwing her through loops. A piece of Lyra's sense broke through enough to tell her burying her face into one of Boone's large biceps was a _good_ idea, scarcely aware of Boone's wince from the pressure on his wounded arm.

"We need a place to stay. Would only be for a night. We can offer Caps and whatever spare medical supplies we have," Boone answered expertly as Lyra leaned into his side.

Lyra peeked through the corner of her eye and watched the _cowgirl ghoul_ tilt her hat upwards. Lyra couldn't tell if she was smiling or not, but her raspy voice was friendly enough, "Well alright, you got yourself a deal, traveler. Just no bullshit, understand me?"

"Yes m'am. Let me take her to a bed and I can return with what I can spare," Boone offered, following the ghoul as she nodded and led them to a group of tents tucked into the corner closest to the gate. Lyra silently followed, her mind refusing to shut up.

_Boring. It feels boring here. Why? Makes no sense. Is she going to tell me about this place? Probably not._

"You kids can have this one. Don't worry about the supplies for now…. Just get your girl some rest. If she's still rough in an hour, I'll get Julie for ya'll. She's the big Doc here. Runs a good show," The ghoul drawled as she pulled out a cigarette and took a long drag, "It'll be her you can give them meds to – don't worry about the caps."

Boone nodded his thanks and watched as the ghoul left, immediately turning to Lyra as he pulled off his pack.

"I'm here still," He said firmly.

"I know…"

"Give me your pack."

Lyra consented, pulling her pack from her shoulders and holding it out for Boone. He took it and dumped it on the small table in the corner of the tent, immediately beginning to separate supplies into several piles. Lyra stared absently at the cans of Pork 'n' Beans.

_Hey! Hey, __**remember**__? Are you __**listening**__? You __**loved **__this. Beans, beans the __**magical **__fruit…_

"Haha, the more you eat the more you…" Lyra trailed off as she caught Boone's concerned glare. The sniper separated himself from his sorting and lead Lyra over to the mattress on the floor of the tent. He sat her down and crouched in front of her.

"You know I'm right here."

_He's __**always **__there._

"Yes," Lyra whispered softly.

"So you know I'm here. Now I need you to listen. Can you listen, Lyra?"

The way Boone was speaking was so bizarre to Lyra that it was enough to cause several more cracks to spread, her addled brain's comprehension finding clarity in the break in his usual demeanor.

"I want you to see me. Don't look at me. See me."

"Okay…" She whispered, her eyes meeting Boone's behind his shades before she huffed in frustration, "I can't see you with those," She stated flatly.

"Good," Boone nodded and pulled off the shades from his face, his hazel eyes piercing Lyra's pale green.

_He's real. You __**know **__him.__** Wake up**__. _

"Craig," She breathed heavily, her full consciousness returning to her in a dizzying rush as she pitched forward. Boone's strong arms caught her from face planting into his chest and he helped steady her, the concern in his eyes spreading a soft, tired smile across her lips.

_You are still there, alright. You just hide it well. _

"Are you alright?" He asked, tilting his head to examine her closely. Lyra felt a blush from shame creep across her cheeks as she nodded meekly.

"Yeah. That… was different," She sat back on the mattress, hugging her knees to her chest, "I was here… but I wasn't. But I was **here**. Fuck, I don't know how to explain it." She felt herself start to shake. None of it made any damn sense, the voices and flashes of memory little more than dust and echoes in the far reaches of her mind. Craig shifted and sat beside her, one knee to his chest as he stretched the other leg out. He was chewing on his inner cheek, Lyra watching the twitching of his jaw under his skin.

"I wasn't really aware of what was going on… I'm sorry Boone; I knew it was dangerous… I could have gotten us hurt."

"You can't help it," He picked under his thumbnail, an almost sad look on his face, "Did you… understand any of it?"

Lyra bit her bottom lip and looked up at Boone, "I… I feel like I've been here before. The feelings were so… varied though, Boone. One second I was devastated... and the next bored. It all just… flowed. Painfully… I couldn't tell what was real and what wasn't…"

Boone nodded knowingly but remained silent.

"I…. I heard _you_, though. I knew _you_..." She shifted her weight to her one side, her shoulder bumping into Boone's uninjured arm, "Seeing you act so… differently… it actually snapped me back." She let out a soft chuckle and smiled up at Boone. He had a pensive frown upon his face and he cleared his throat, not looking at Lyra as he spoke.

"Carla… hghn," He coughed again awkwardly, "She… I learned it from her. The things I've done… I've been lost in the memories before, too."

Lyra frowned sadly and hugged her knees even tighter, "Does it… did it ever stop?"

"For a time. But then… I lost her," Boone swallowed hard and leaned onto his back, linking his hands behind his head, "It hasn't happened in a while. I can handle it now. Thanks to her."

_I owe you one, Carla._

Lyra also laid back like Boone, curling her body towards him as she lay at his side on the small mattress, "Thank you," She whispered softly as she tentatively reached for his forearm and gave it a gentle squeeze, "I lucked out when I found you…"

Boone reached over and rested his large hand over top of her small one. Lyra smiled contently to herself as the two lay in the dingy tent, both wrestling with their individual memories, while the fires out in the courtyard snapped and cracked.

"When you start to feel that happen, you tell me," Boone ordered softly before giving Lyra's hand a squeeze.

"Deal."

"Good. Eat something and sleep. I've got to take care of a few things," Boone muttered as he reached over to Lyra's thigh and plucked out her handgun, ensuring the safety was on as he tucked it into his belt, "I'll be back soon."

Lyra nodded, watching him unzip the flap of the moldy tent and disappear. Completely ignoring his order of food, she threw herself backwards, her back slamming into the mattress as she let out a long, shaky sigh. It had been a damn long day. Rather than follow Boone's orders for food, she wiggled over to her pack by the door and pulled out a clear bottle. She unscrewed the cap and brought the sharp drink to her mouth, taking a generous chug before tossing it back into the pack. She didn't intend on starting a nasty habit… but after today, she felt exempt.

Lyra laid back down on the bed and welcomed the _familiar _detachment, the detachment she understood. She was vaguely aware of Boone's voice as he returned. The last she thing she knew before finally nodding off to sleep was Boone leaning over her…. his fingertips gently grazing down the scar on the right side of her face. He was muttering softly to her, his rough hands soothing her skin. She smiled tenderly and curled up tighter finally succumbing to her exhaustion.


	11. Haus

Note: Here's an extra long chapter! Sorry for the wait guys – been busy with work and general exhaustion from the former, haha!

Lyra awoke up to find herself in a dingy green tent she vaguely remembered entering the previous night. The truth was Lyra didn't remember too much of yesterday and that concerned her. She had been aware enough to recognize her mind had been twisted but besides the brief conversation she had with Boone before falling asleep, the rest of the trip through the run down town had been little more than a disturbing blur. She knew Boone had acquired them a safe place to sleep for the night and she was grateful for that; she continued to welcome the quiet sniper's company. A brief memory from the previous night struck Lyra, her own hand reaching up to trace her scar down the side of her face as she frowned thoughtfully at its implications.

_His fingers are softer than I thought…_

"Good. You're awake."

_Speak of the devil._

Lyra looked up from where she lay on the ground, smiling sleepily up at the perpetually terse man. She pushed herself off the dirty mattress and gave a great stretch before running a hand through her tangled hair, "Mornin'."

Boone nodded and crouched down in front of her, "I've secured us supplies and more importantly, passports into the Strip."

"No way, how did you do it?" Lyra asked as she scrambled up off the mattress and began to straighten her disheveled armour, amused that she had actually managed to fall asleep in the incredibly constricting leather.

"Called in a few favours. Don't trust the locals. There's an NCR outfit stationed here to help NCR citizens… they were happy to oblige."

Lyra nodded approvingly as she ran her fingers through her long hair, wincing as she caught the tangles. Boone stood to his full height and waited patiently as Lyra gathered herself, watching quietly as she went over the supplies in her pack. Lyra's eyebrows perked up in surprise and she turned to Boone, holding open her newly attained lunchbox tin full of medical supplies.

"Hey, you got us some meds, too I see," She closed the lid and flipped the tin box around for inspection, "I dig the lunchbox."

"Yes. Julie suggested we keep our supplies inside it to preserve them. She supplied the rest… at a cost, of course," Boone explained as he walked over to his own pack, throwing it over his shoulders as he reached for his rifle. Lyra found her holsters and weapons neatly placed on a table across from her mattress and began strapping them to her thigh.

"Who's Julie? And for that matter, what is this place?"

"Julie Farkas. She's a part of the Follower's of Apocalypse. This is their camp," Boone explained as he held open the flap of their tent for Lyra. She followed him out into the bright, dusty yard, Lyra's eyes scanning the multitude of people and tents crowding the large courtyard. Snippets of her crazed stumbling came back to her as she began to recognize faces and sights she had distantly been aware of the previous night. She slowed her pace as she noticed many of the people were dressed in lab coats, busy tending to people who were obviously ill or injured. Boone stopped mid-step and turned a concern gaze her way.

"You alright?"

Lyra looked back at Boone and couldn't help but catch the carefully guarded concern in his eyes. She sighed and strode back to his side, "Yeah. I'm okay. I'll keep the crazy to a minimum today. Promise."

Boone chuckled quietly and led the way towards a woman with an impressive Mohawk atop her shaved head. The girl turned and smiled warmly at them, Lyra absently appreciating the fact her smile carried to her eyes as well. That was a rarity these days.

"Well, look who's finally up. It's almost noon, girl!" She teased kindly before her face turned more serious, "How are you doing, Lyra? Boone gave me a brief medical history… I hope you don't mind."

Lyra looked at Boone appreciatively and decided that no, she didn't mind.

"I'm glad – I'm just sorry I wasn't in a position to myself. Not quite sure what was going on yesterday to be honest," Lyra explained shyly.

"Well, you survived a bullet to the head… I don't think there's anything you need to be sorry about. Damage to the frontal lobe can certainly complicate an already battered psyche. An involuntary recurrent memory isn't usually a pleasant experience in this day and age…" Julie shook her head and a blush crept across her cheeks, "Either way, Boone has made it clear the two of you need to be on your way… just, don't be a stranger – come here anytime if you want to talk about these memories. I'd be happy to help."

Lyra couldn't help but feel dumbstruck by the woman's outward kindness, "I – I will… thank you."

Julie nodded and extended her hand to Boone who shook it, "Thanks for all your help today, Craig. Havin' that agreement with the Wrangler is going to make things that little less stressful around here."

Lyra looked at Boone curiously.

_My, we've been a busy bee while the Queen slept, huh?_

"Not a problem. Thank you for the aid," Craig said solemnly before nodding his head and turning to Lyra expectantly. Lyra extended her own hand to Julie and they shook amicably, Lyra beaming from Julie's kind smile. Yes, she definitely would come back to talk to this woman, Lyra just had a few more loose ends to tie up…

"What uh, what were you up to while I slept?" Lyra asked as she followed Boone back into the dirty streets of Freeside. As she waited for his response, she took a deep breath and decided she would focus on Boone's back as they walked, the man insisting on taking point. Losing her sense of reality had been embarrassingly inconvenient, but it also put Boone and herself in a compromising position in a dangerous place. She did not want a repeat today. Whatever this place _had_ meant to her, she decided to fight to keep it in the past where it belonged, curiosity be damned.

"We needed supplies. Julie was willing provided her own situation improved. There's one casino in Freeside, The Atomic Wrangler, I broke a deal with them for Julie. That's all you need to know."

"I think I'm on the _need to know_ list, Boone," Lyra muttered annoyed, "What if something had happened to you?"

Boone scoffed, "I've been around here enough. I was fine. I knew you were safe at the Fort. Securing us supplies was first priority after your safety."

Lyra rolled her eyes and decided against arguing further. He was a grown man and more than competent with a weapon… she just couldn't help her growing irritancy at her own uselessness. Boone had not only acquired passports into the Strip, he also scored a hefty load of medical supplies while helping decent people in the process. To Lyra it sounded more like something _she_ would have done rather than Boone. While Lyra had no doubt Boone had a deep sense of morality, it was blaringly obvious he was constantly teetering on the fence, whether intentionally or not.

_Yes, he is an eternal conundrum…._

Lyra chanced a peek around them as they walked, her eyes instantly being drawn to the colourful building to her left. Even though it was mid-day the bright neon-purple lights on the building were candy to Lyra's eyes. She felt something rush past her thoughts, and quickly clamped her eyes shut.

_No._

Boone slowed his pace so that he was walking side by her side, "Alright?"

"Yeah… how much further until The Strip?" Lyra muttered, giving her head a shake before giving Boone an uncomfortable smile. Boone jutted his chin out as he nodded ahead.

"Just up ahead. See the big gates and robots? Got to get through them first."

Lyra did indeed see the entrance gate. Her eyes were drawn to the large buildings that were jutting above the gates barbed fencing, the tall, four-pronged tower holding her gaze for the longest. Another deep pang of familiarity hit her and she took a deep breath as she and Boone approached the rusty gates. Several Securitron's not unlike Victor were guarding it. All had a black and white screen with a near comical policeman illustration on the front. Lyra would have giggled if she hadn't felt so unnerved by the damn things.

"Halt! Present passport or submit to a credit check!"

Boone calmly reached into his pant leg pouch and pulled out the passports he had got his hands on. He held them up before the Securitron as Lyra held her breath.

"NCR Personnel. Passport accepted. Welcome to The Strip, sir and ma'am."

Boone nodded and walked up to the gate, his large hands grasping the handles as he yanked it open, a flood of colours assaulting Lyra's eyes almost instantly. She stood there dumbly as the sights and sounds engulfed her, her eyes unable to focus on a single spot. Boone gave her a gentle nudge and she stumbled through as he sealed the gate closed behind them. Lyra's eyes turned to her right just in time to see a female NCR soldier vomit violently against a sign, the radioactive orange vomit causing Lyra to grimace.

"Professional," Boone sneered in disgust.

Lyra nodded silently, feeling her mind begin to slip into the same state it had put her through the previous day.

_No. This… this is something… else. _

The same overwhelming sense of familiarity was there but she didn't feel herself slipping completely under. As startling as her current surroundings were, she also felt an aching comfort deep inside for it. She knew this place, each building, sign or light exciting and new yet familiar and old. Before her mind could twist any further though, she remembered Boone's words and reached out for him, her small hand clutching the sleeve of his shirt.

"Boone… this place…"

Immediately Craig stopped in his tacks and turned to her, his hands going to the top of her arms as he fixed his intense gaze on her, "We can leave."

Lyra shook her head, "No… I'm okay. This place… is so strikingly familiar though, Boone. It's unreal…"

Before Lyra could say a word more a Securitron to their left wheeled towards them, the stoic police officer visage gone and replaced by the proverbial smoking cowboy. Boone warily regarded the Securitron as it bounced almost joyfully up to Lyra.

"Well, howdy pardner! You've come a far piece haven't ya? Welcome to New Vegas!"

"Vic! What are you doing here?" Lyra asked, genuinely surprised. She noted Boone's eyes narrowing in the 'Bot's direction but ignored his apprehension, "Boone, this is the robot that pulled me out of my own grave!"

Boone said nothing as Vic waved a friendly three-pronged "hand" in his direction before turning its attention back to Lyra.

"Consider me your personal welcome wagon, Miss Lyra! Now, hear this – the head honcho of New Vegas, Mr. House, is just itchin' to make your acquaintance," Vic twanged happily, "Just head for the Lucky 38 – the big 'ol tower shaped like one of them roulette spinners."

Lyra raised her eyebrow curiously, "Mr. House…? Why are you telling me this… and not him?"

"Well now, it was Mr. House who made Securitron's like me. Seems the least I could do is pass on his message. Don't dawdle now, he'll be waitin'!"

Before Lyra could respond the Securitron's screen flicked back to the usual displeased mug of a police officer before zooming back to its position beside the gate. Lyra gave her head another shake. She had no idea who this Mr. House was, but like this entire town, a nagging voice in the far reaches of her mind was telling her otherwise. She turned to Boone to find him chewing his bottom lip as he looked over towards the Lucky 38, his eyebrows furrowed deeply.

"What do you think?" Lyra asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"A face-to-face meeting with House? I think the NCR would kill to be in your shoes," He muttered as he followed her towards the brightly lit steps. Lyra felt a wash of déjà vu cascade over her body as the flashing lights awkwardly illuminated hers and Boone's faces. As they reached the top, she noticed the Securitron waiting for them as Vic again and shook her head bemusedly.

_Must be an AI… or something. What the hell are you doing, Lyra…_

"Well alright, Miss Lyra. Let's get you up there," Vic paused and gestured towards Boone, "Ooh, sorry! Your friend will have to wait here while you see the big boss."

Boone took a menacing step forward, his voice a barely contained growl, "I don't think so."

"Now, now, this just won't fly. It's gotta be just the 'lil lady or no one at all, ya see."

Lyra walked up to Boone and handed him her pack, "I'll be okay… just wait here, and as soon as we're done I'll come and get you."

"You're not stable. What if-"

"Boone. I'll be fine."

Craig stepped back and crossed his arms, turning his gaze out towards the Strip. Lyra got the hint and sighed, turning back to Vic as the giant slab doors slid open before them to reveal several other doors tucked further in. The large red door had a black diamond on it, Lyra barely getting the chance to ponder why the pattern was so familiar before she was lead into the dark expanse of the casino. Immediately, she felt like another bullet had impacted with her skull as the sights before her flashed between its actual dark, empty vastness to lights and sounds of the brightest vitality. Lyra closed her eyes and shook her head, fighting desperately to eradicate the disorientation. She breathed deeply as she followed Vic towards a set of elevators situated in the middle of the massive hall, Lyra's ears playing tricks on her as she heard whispers of laughter comingling with the electronic nuances of the Securitron's. She kept her eyes glued to Vic and the doors of the elevator, the sights of the empty casino around her too puzzling.

"Next stop, penthouse!" Vic cried cheerfully as the elevator doors slid open, Lyra being ushered in by the quirky robot. As the elevator climbed the high tower, Vic remained silent. Lyra was ok with that, the insane familiarity of the entire place driving her close to madness. Freeside and The Strip had been enough for her to deal with, but this place… was something _different._

_ It's like I've been here a thousand times… but it feels so, so far away…_

Regardless, Lyra was grateful she wasn't blacking out as she had done with Boone. While something had been triggered deep in her psyche when in Freeside, Lyra wondered if her battered mind was simply adjusting to the constant onslaught of confusion as she did not feel the same here. The Lucky 38 was certainly something to behold, especially after being out in the Wastes, but Lyra knew better than to assume it was simply her naiveté causing her composed turmoil.

_It's like I know the face… just not the name._

A delightful _ding!_ Yanked Lyra from her thoughts as the elevator doors smoothly slid open and Vic rolled out, stopping to remain at the side of the elevator doors. Lyra hesitantly followed and found herself in a breath taking room that had gigantic floor to ceiling windows. She knew she was only looking at one section of the penthouse but it was catching her breath none the less. Lyra felt herself feeling an odd combination of awe, trepidation and comfort before she finally noticed she was face-to-face with _another_ Securitron. This one however, had a beautiful woman's face on her screen. Lyra stifled a chuckle and nodded her head in the robot's direction.

"Well hello, sugar! Mr. House is waiting for you in his office!" It chirped in a bubbly yet sexy female voice. This time Lyra couldn't contain her chuckle. She swore she heard an indignant electronic chirp emit from the funny 'bot. Lyra bit her bottom lip and tentatively approached the robot, wondering if it would speak to her any further.

"Um… who are you?"

"I'm Jane, sugar! One of Mr. House's fabulous girls!"

"What… exactly can you tell me about Mr. House, Jane?"

"Well sugar, he's just the maximum utmost!" It fluttered girlishly, Lyra fighting to keep her eyes from rolling too dramatically, "If it weren't for Mr. House we wouldn't have this fabulous wonderland of New Vegas, would we?"

"Sounds like you're pretty fond of him, Jane," Lyra mused as she rested her hands on her hips before the robot. Said robot let out a little _giggle_ and seemed to flutter on the spot.

"Well of course I am, silly! Mr. House is just the smartest, most wonderful man there ever was! Did you not know he single handedly reclaimed New Vegas from all them nasty tribes?" The 'Bot paused almost in thought before adding, "Well… he single handedly sent his Securitron's to do it. But that counts in my books!"

Lyra couldn't contain her amusement. Vic was funny enough, but there were definitely some crossed wires in this robot, "Heh… I didn't know robots could feel so uh… _strongly_ for humans."

"Sugar, I may be a robot on the _outside_, but my neural computational matrix is an exact copy of Mr. House's favourite girl!"

Lyra felt her jaw drop as she stared at the 'Bot in disbelief, "So… you're a copy… of a dead woman? Ok. My line's been crossed – subject change now," Lyra scrambled awkwardly to avoid any further divulging of bizarre information, "What is this place anyway?"

"Why, you should _know_, sugar! This is the Lucky 38 casino and resort! Well…. At least it _used_ to be. Mr. House has kept the place locked up tight for _ages_ now. Nobody comes in… or out."

"Interesting, am I the first?"

"In over 200 years actually… yes. My, it's been a long time, Lyra."

"What?"

Jane gave Lyra a polite wave then turned and began to wheel away towards a separate room, "Best get to Mr. House now, you've already kept him waiting! Bye now, dear!"

"Wait!" Lyra called out, running up to Jane only to see that like Vic before, her screen had changed back to a frowning policeman. She scowled and pushed away from the robot, her bafflement hitting an all time high with Jane's remark.

_What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fu-_

Lyra sighed at her bitter thoughts, unable to deny her relief that she had kept some semblance of clarity regardless of her current situation. She took a deep breath and approached Vic, about to ask him where exactly House was when he pointed down a flight of stairs where an enormous screen sat before the window. Lyra cocked her eyebrow and nodded, tentatively stepping down the stairs before she approached the daunting piece of technology. She felt a terrible sense of foreboding as her stomach leapt into her throat. Before she could change her mind and leave however, the screen flickered to life and a giant image of a mustachioed man appeared. Lyra realized immediately that it was merely a stationary picture, but the man's eyes…

_Something about those eyes…_

"This meeting has been a long time coming, hasn't it? You've come a long ways, literally and, I suppose, figuratively as well…" The man's voice paused, as if observing the stunned girl standing before him, "I have to ask, now that you've reached your destination… what do you make of what you see?"

Lyra moved her mouth but no words came out, the man's question sending off alarm bells through her entire system. The way this man spoke sent chills running down Lyra's spine, leaving her flirting with the impossible presumption that he somehow _knew_ what she was feeling. Just as Lyra felt herself beginning to sink she thought of Boone and clung to it desperately.

"Actually," She croaked before clearing her throat and saying steadily, "I prefer the Wasteland to be honest."

If the image had allowed Mr. House's eyes to roll, they likely would have, "You aren't going to _wax poetic _about the virtues of life out in the Wastes, are you? It's a desert, you do realize?"

_Pretentious prick._

Mr. House continued, clearly caught in a bit of a rant, "A radioactive desert where humans subsist in a barbaric state? Difficult to glorify convincingly, they are, however, aptly named."

Lyra decided not to encourage him with a response, opting to remain silent as she stared up at the giant face before her.

"For that's what you would be out there… wasted. Here on the Strip, your _talents_ can be put to good use."

Lyra turned her head slightly as she regarded the screen in front of her, her eyebrow slowly raising she spoke, "What are you talking about? I'm just a _courier_. I can't think of any talents that would be of much use to _you._"

_I can't even be a successful courier, damn it._

Mr. House tutted condescendingly at Lyra, "Oh, don't be coy – you've been playing a high stakes game ever since Victor dug you out of the ground. Don't be afraid to admit it."

_He knows. Something. How the hell does he __**know**__?_

Lyra couldn't take it; whether she liked it nor not, this enigmatic man knew _something_ about her and it was plain as day. What frightened Lyra is he did not strike her as the type to show his hand before the bets were called. As much as this disturbed her, Lyra could not resist finally succumbing to the delicious temptation of _answers. _She decided she would play his game and she would win - the desire for truth providing her with a new found determination.

"Shall we get down to business then, Mr. House?"

Mr. House did not hesitate, "The business is this. One of my employees has stolen an item of extraordinary value to me, and I want it recovered. Simple enough?"

_The Chip! As if this guys my employer!_

Lyra crossed her arms, shifting her weight to her one leg, "Let me guess; guy in a checkered suite, bit of a two-timing douche bag? What exactly do you propose I do about him?"

"My only concern is the recovery of the Platinum Chip. What happens to Benny I leave to your _discretion_. When you bring the chip to me, I will pay you four times the delivery bonus stipulated in your contract. How's that?"

"I want some questions answered first."

Mr. House paused, apparently mulling over Lyra's blatant demand, "Very well then. What would you like to discuss?"

"How do I get to Benny?"

"It won't be easy. Benny is constantly surrounded by at least four body guards. Except when he is in his private suite on the thirteenth floor of the Tops casino. Sneaking into Benny's suite would be difficult yes… but not _impossible._"

_Wait…_

"The Chairmen are your employees aren't they? Don't they take orders from _you_?"

"It's more complicated than that," Mr. House began almost exasperatedly, "The Chairmen share what you might call… a tribal affinity. Look for a man named Swank, Benny's second in command. He's always been a reliable, if _unimaginative_, employee. Do your best to convince him you're working under my auspices. If you have any evidence of Benny's crimes, show it to him."

Lyra pushed her bangs back from her forehead and scowled, "Will something like _this_ suffice? Or should I go back to Goodsprings and just get Doc Mitchell to put my skull fragments in a pretty envelope?"

"Don't be absurd, girl. I would imagine Benny, and indeed Swank, have sunk a bullet in enough people's foreheads that it would hardly persuade him."

Lyra glared at the giant screen, "Why not send one of your Securitron's, then?"

"Our contract only allows Securitron's to enter by invite _only_. The minute I send any in, Benny will know I am on to him," Mr. House stopped and seemed irritated, "Are we done now? I would like my Chip recovered as soon as possible."

"No, I have a few more questions."

Mr. House sighed, "Very well then."

"Who was Benny to you?"

"Benny was to be my protégé… obviously I miscalculated his drive for supremacy. But in any case, you've come along. A _more_ than suitable replacement…"

_Again with the cryptic hints._

"How so?" Lyra asked, glaring warily at Mr. House's face.

"Oh, let's just say I'm _well-versed_ regarding your… qualifications."

"If that's so, why didn't you intervene _sooner_ when Benny put a bullet in my brain?"

Mr. House let out something like a scoff, "You mean, why did Victor not intervene sooner? Goodsprings is a bit too far away from me to control a Securitron agent by remote. I can send and receive pockets of data at best. Victor's combat algorithms determined the proper cause of action. Benny and his thugs were more than a match for a lone Securitron. When he alerted me I instructed him to approach the site after Benny and the others departed."

_Well, golly! Thanks!_

Lyra nodded to herself, sarcasm aside the man was for some reason keeping an eye on her. The problem was, given her luck, she wasn't so sure if it had been for her benefit or not yet, "May I ask what the Platinum Chip _is_ exactly?"

"The Platinum Chip is a very special item. There's nothing else like it in the entire world. It was lost… a long time and difficult to find. That's all you need to know about it for this stage of our enterprise. Fulfill your contract, deliver the chip, and good things will come your way, my dear Lyra."

Lyra narrowed her eyes in suspicion, hardly inspired.

"I've taken a bullet to my cranium and have lost more than just grey matter. I have lost who I am, I have lost _my life_. That being considered, I think I've folded one too many hands in _your _high stakes game – I have a right to know more than what you're telling me," Lyra growled, her exhausted psyche kick starting her impatience.

Mr. House was unfazed, "That's simply not true. I am the only person to hold any rights pertaining to the chip. I designed it and I paid for it… dearly. To develop that chip, I spent a sum of U.S Dollars – not the bottle caps that pass as currency these days – but a _sum _beyond counting. For decades I paid salvagers to comb the ruins for it. And when it was finally discovered, tens of thousands of caps spent to have it brought here," He paused and let out a near aggravated sigh, "We know how that turned out. Complete your contract and it will be the last time I have to pay for the Chip. Save your questions for then."

"You'll agree that once I've brought it back… you'll answer anything I ask?" Lyra asked slowly, feeling foolish for trusting the eccentric man.

"I can answer questions no one else could. I promise it would be worth your efforts in that regard."

Lyra nodded her head determinedly, "Alright. I'll do it."

"Well enough. Return to me when you have the Platinum Chip in your possession – any further matters to discuss?"

_When I have that Chip, you bet your ass._

"I'll have more questions when I return, _with_ the Chip this time, House."

"Until then."

Lyra swallowed hard as she stared up at "connection lost" sprawled across the large monstrous monitor. Her mind was still exploding, the conversation with House instilling the same primordial emotions the building itself had manifested. The difference was, the clarity of _answers_ kept her from losing her mind, Lyra feeling the drive to _seek_ stronger than ever before. As she approached the elevator, Vic zipped in front o her, Lyra barely crashing into the robot.

"Congratulations, pardner! The Boss has instructed me to 'comp you to the high rollers suite! You can bring your friend, too! Be like a little clubhouse for the two of you!" He dropped his voice to a low, playfully admonishing tone, "Now, you two's best behave. People might talk."

Lyra couldn't help but grin as she climbed into the elevator with the Securitron.

"God damn it, where is she," Boone growled under his breath as he continued to scan the Strip. In the last hour he had been harassed favorably by many NCR troops, including a startling number intoxicated females, NCR and otherwise. It wasn't just the amount of attention he was receiving that was leaving him unsettled; The Strip reminded Craig too much of Carla. Coupled with his growing concern for Lyra, it was leaving him with a sick feeling at the pit of his stomach.

"Ohhh! Marie, check it out! First Recon guy!"

Boone groaned audibly and set his face in stone, resolving to ignore every advance these women were about to make on him… as he had with the last seven or ten.

"What are you doin' hangin' outside the Lucky 38, Handsome? Got a date?" The girl who Boone assumed was Marie asked. Craig remained silent, turning his gaze back to the doors of the casino.

"Not much of a talker, huh? Why don't you come with us, sexy? Gomorrah's right over there. We could have a few drinks… help you _loosen_ up?"

The other female trooper giggled idiotically next to her friend.

"I think you're loose enough for the both of us. Get out of here," Craig sneered, looking down upon the girls who were a few steps below him. Just as the pair were about to burst out indignantly, Craig heard the doors behind him push open and turned to see Lyra striding confidently towards him. He couldn't resist a small smile from cracking across his stony face.

_Thank god for small mercies._

"Hey! Come with me; you aren't going to believe this," Lyra said before pausing and observing the disgruntled girls behind Boone. Lyra let out a bark of a laugh and hooked her arm through Boone's, "Stop breaking hearts, handsome. Let's go. You can't possibly stay mad at me after you see this."

"I'm not permitted to enter, remember?" Craig snidely reminded Lyra, his previous frustration with her returning. Lyra absently batted his comment away with her hand.

"Forget that; I scored us some _serious_ digs. Come on," She urged, practically dragging Boone through the front doors and into the casino. He was able to quickly appreciate the empty yet provocative interior before Lyra was ushering him into the elevator, that creepy Securitron rolling right in with them.

"Presidential suite!" It yipped happily before the doors closed. Boone looked down at Lyra, not quite sure if her grin was genuine excitement… or if something had occurred during her meeting with House that had finally made her snap. Craig hoped it was the former. A cheerful _ding!_ A minute or so later informed them they'd reached their destination and Boone followed Lyra out of the elevator. They stood in a rectangular room with four doors tucked into each corner, a terminal hanging on the wall directly across from where they stood. Lyra smiled mischievously at Craig.

"What?"

"This way," She whispered, leading the way over to each door as she proceeded to give Boone a tour. To his surprise, the entire _floor_ was their room. Not only did they have their own bedrooms, Lyra obviously taking the master suite, but they also had a full stocked kitchen, bathroom and games room. Boone had to admit he was impressed, if not carefully containing his wariness. Such nice things came with a cost in the wasteland. What had Lyra paid?

_A bullet to the brain?_

"Heh… it's nice," Boone muttered as he and Lyra explored the bathroom that contained two separate stalls, filled with all the required amenities, "Shampoo huh? Didn't think this stuff existed out here…"

"Really?" Lyra asked surprised.

"Back in the NCR it was in regular supply. Here I think you have to scavenge it. Most just use Abraxo."

"Yeah well, it's a luxury I can't wait to enjoy," Lyra mused happily as she held a bottle in her hand, excitedly reading its contents. She looked up at Boone and grinned slyly again, "That was a _hint_."

Boone shrugged and left the bathroom closing the door behind him, but not before he heard an excited squeal come from Lyra.

"Towels! Soft, fluffy _wonderful_ towels!"

Craig had to admit he'd be looking forward that as well as he made his way into the kitchen. The table was impressively long. He reached into the fridge and caught himself doing a double take. Absolutely _everything_ was stocked within, including fresh Brahmin steak.

"Not passing this up," He muttered as he pulled out the steaks, reaching in for some fresh carrots, onions and corn. He pulled out a frying pan and cooking pot from the cupboard, opting to use his combat knife to slice the vegetables. The last time he had really _cooked_… had been his last meal with Carla.

_God damn it._

Boone couldn't deny how painful it was to be back here in Vegas. Every sight, every sound… even the rambunctious, drunken troopers reminded him of that fateful leave when he had met his wife. She had caught up with him outside The Tops, Boone taking a liking to her cause her sentence didn't start off with a drunkenly slurred pick up line. Craig was so ensnared in the memory he failed to notice Lyra standing in the doorway, watching him. When he felt a single tear fall unto the top of his knuckles he hurriedly wiped at his eyes, a stinging sensation setting in.

_It's the onions, right?_

"What ya makin'?"

Boone turned around to see Lyra walking towards him in nothing more than a bizarre robe. He nodded at Lyra as he blinked repeatedly, "Steak… and vegetables. Was just cutting some onions."

Lyra smiled and took the knife gently from his hand, her fingers sliding along his as she gently tugged it away, "Let me help."

The two stood in silence for a while as Boone grabbed a knife from the drawer and began cutting up the carrots. He wanted to ask her about her conversation with House… but he also wasn't inclined to spoiling how _normal_ she seemed at the moment. He was on a need to know basis… and he knew all he needed to. Lyra would tell him when she deemed it necessary.

"Hey Boone… those showers are to die for. I can take over here, you go enjoy the hot water," Lyra smiled at him, absently twirling the knife on the cutting board. Craig licked his lips and nodded, setting the knife down as he made his way out of the kitchen and towards the bathroom.

_No shit. Soft, fluffy towels._

Alright, so Craig could admit the place came with perks, his impression improving even more as he felt _actual __**hot**_ water come out of the shower head, not just the lukewarm shit he would get in Novac. He allowed himself to enjoy a good fifteen minute shower, feeling any longer was weird. He toweled off and made his way to the guest room he would be staying in. He regarded his grungy, dirty clothes on the floor and sighed before his eye caught the various wardrobes and chest of drawers tucked around the room. Craig rummaged through a few and was able to find a clean white shirt, boxers and a pair of khaki fatigues – as well as one of the robes Lyra had been wearing, Boone realizing it was the same fabric as the towels. He allowed himself a grin as he made his way out of the room, buckling his belt as he approached the kitchen. The minute he swung the door open his nose was bombarded by a menagerie of smells he had not had the pleasure of enjoy in a damn long time.

"Didn't know you could cook," He quipped as he approached her at the stove. Lyra rolled her eyes and let out a sarcastic laugh before she waved him away.

"Be a doll and set the table, I want to make this _count._"

Craig shook his head as he approached the chine cabinet on the one wall adjacent to the dining table. He, and even Lyra, may not know much regarding her past… but he wasn't about to spoil one of the first things he saw her legitimately excited about. It had been a long time since he'd enjoyed a well cooked meal, too…

"All set?" Lyra called from over her shoulder as she started putting the steaks onto plates. Boone was surprised to see she grabbed a couple more out of the fridge, effectively cooking herself and Craig two enormous steaks. Boone couldn't deny the way his stomach ached when he saw the platter of fresh cooked food.

"That was all of our steaks-"

Lyra cut him off, "Don't worry about it. That fancy terminal in the common area? I just order what we need on that and presto, House provides," She exclaimed as she hurriedly motioned Boone to sit. He complied and bit his lip as she placed the steaming plate underneath his nose.

"Thank you."

"No problem, let's eat!" Lyra cried happily as she sat down across from him, digging into her own platter like a starved coyote. Craig shrugged and did the same, throwing niceties to the wind. Lyra was clearly not one to uphold airs. Once the two of them had finished inhaling their meal they both leaned back in their chairs, Lyra tilting hers onto its two hind legs to reach for a pack of smokes on the counter behind her. Craig glared at her but she shrugged, bringing the cigarette to her lips and taking a deep drag.

"Wow, these… don't taste like ass."

"I would disagree."

"You would," Lyra stuck her tongue out at Craig, an incredibly childish yet playful act he had never expected of her. For all her quirks, the woman did appear to be all business and seemed to refrain from outward, intentional silliness. Craig grabbed a chopped carrot slice off his plate and threw it at Lyra, triumphant when it made a dull thud against her forehead. Lyra did not look amused.

"We've had the discussion about throwing things. If you'd like to go back to a _tent_, I can arrange it for you," She threatened, happily flicking her ashes into the glass ashtray at her side. Boone scoffed and leaned forward, spreading his elbows across the table.

"Alright. I'll behave."

Lyra laughed, "Submission? From you? Now I know I've died and gone to paradise."

"Very funny," Craig chewed on the inside of his cheek, deciding it couldn't hurt to ask her a few questions. The drastic change in their situation, while certainly a welcome surprise, was also disconcerting, "What did House say, Lyra?"

Craig was surprised to see Lyra grin triumphantly at him, "Well, turns out we're after the same guy. Works to _both_ our benefit; as it should, I am _his_ courier after all."

"You're kidding."

Lyra took another drag on her cigarette and raised her arms, indicating to all that surrounded them "You think this is a joke?"

"Got a point."

"He wants Benny. I want Benny. Tomorrow I deal with him. Mr. House was cordial enough to allow me the rest of the evening off so to speak. Victor told me he felt bad about my "long trip" to New Vegas," Lyra laughed, "I doubt that very much but I'm not going to complain. Until I get my answers from him, I have no problem accepting his hospitality."

"Answers?"

Lyra pressed her cigarette out into the ashtray and grabbed a carrot off her plate, taking a bite, "Yeah… man made it clear he knows a thing or two about me. More than I think he meant to lead on to. Once I get that Platinum Chip off Benny and return it to him, he's going to tell me everything."

"What makes you so sure he'll stick to his word," Boone asked, immediately finding the flaw in Lyra's trusting nature.

"Look at this place, Boone. You've seen Vegas, more of it than I have. He's clearly a business man; somehow I just don't see him reneging. He's different from Benny and I'm assuming the rest of the Families. I mean, fuck, they all _listen_ to him."

"Apparently not all of them," Boone interjected.

Lyra rolled her eyes and shrugged, "Yeah. He went over _that_ little bad apple, too," Lyra took a deep breath and stood, "If we're going to talk about this more let's go to the couches, way more comfortable."

Boone nodded in agreement and followed Lyra to the family room, sitting down on the plush couch and leaning back into the corner of it, one arm stretched across the back. He had never sat on a couch that did not have at least three sharp springs prodding him uncomfortably. He looked up to see Lyra mixing herself a drink at the liquor cabinet and his curiosity got the better of him.

"Hey. Can I get a whiskey straight?"

"Had a peek at the bottles didn't you?" Lyra grinned like a shark as she walked over, handing Craig the perfectly preserved crystal glass. They both took a good swig of the drink and Craig let out a sigh of satisfaction.

_Never had whiskey like this before…_

Lyra took another swig of hers and set it down on the table beside the couch, pulling her legs up from the floor so they curled under her, "So, as I was saying – Benny was supposed to be House's protégé. He fucked that up. The way this man was talking to me, Boone… he knows something about my past. What did he say again when I said I was just a courier…? Oh yeah!" Lyra reached for her drink and took a deep gulp, finishing the rest in one go, "He said something like "Oh, don't be coy!" Haha!"

Craig was convinced Lyra was becoming intoxicated.

"Lyra, is that your first?"

"Tch, no – I had a couple while making dinner. It's so good, I can't resist! I bet you if I sold a couple of those bottles we could make a _killing_."

Boone shrugged his shoulder and brought his own glass to his lips, welcoming the rewarding warmth that spread across his chest as he swallowed the aged liquid. Lyra sat across from him, her eyes distant and thoughtful. Craig took a final swig from his glass and stood, stopping in front of Lyra's to take her own before pouring them each another. Lyra took hers back appreciatively and held it up once Craig had sat back down.

"To us, Boone."

"I'm hardly worth toasting."

"It's ok; I make up for what you lack," Lyra teased, smiling as Craig clinked his glass against hers, the two sitting in the first comfortable silence Craig was sure he'd ever had with her. He looked over at Lyra, the same thoughtful smile across her soft lips.

_She's sure of something for once. Wish I could say the same._

No. Craig wasn't sure about shit. The last woman he had casually drunk with was Carla, just like the meal… just like being in New Vegas. The frightening mirror his life had suddenly turned into dawned on Boone and he felt a slight panic creep across his chest as he achingly looked over at Lyra. She was slowly swirling the whiskey in her glass, the long wavy strands of her blonde hair cascading over her face as her pale green eyes watched the sloshing liquid. Boone's eyes briefly focused on the two scars dominating her soft face, the long slice on the right side causing a pang of guilt to shift through him.

"The… last time you were on the strip… was with Carla right?"

Craig looked up and cleared his throat in surprise, "Yeah."

"I don't mean to keep dragging you to these places," Lyra offered. Craig sighed and finished his drink, setting it on the floor beneath him before leaning back further into the couch, his arms behind his head.

_I made her my wife in The Tops…_

"You're not. Coincidence is a bitch."

Lyra slowly placed her glass down on the table before she tentatively inched her way closer to Boone. Craig stiffened briefly when he felt her body heat against him as she sat beside him, thigh to thigh.

"I feel… really sad in this place. I can't… I don't know why. It's not the same as in Freeside. There's a familiarity to this place that just… runs deeper. I wish I could know why – maybe I've been here before, with friends, family… had good times and actually _lived_ for once. But… I just don't know for sure," Lyra reached up and cupped Boone's jaw gently in her hands, "You _have _lived, you know what your memories here _mean_… and whether you can admit it or not, that's a gift."

Before Boone to argue otherwise, Lyra gently pressed her soft lips to his and pulled away, flashing him a meek smile before she disappeared from the room, the faint clicking of a door closing the final thing Craig heard from her. He was left to not just think about what she had just said… but to fight the growing tingling sensation across the lips that had just met hers… and his own assault of confused emotions.

_I'm sorry, Carla. _


	12. Weight of My Words

Note: Here's another long chapter to make up for my slow updates lately! I'll be on my week off again soon so I'll hopefully get a chance to post more frequently. Thank you to everyone, for reading and especially to those who take the time to review! I know Lyra and the storyline itself may seem like a clusterfuck, but trust me, there is method to my madness! Thank you again, everyone!

Obligatory, random disclaimer: I own nothing except Lyra's madness – the rest is all Bethesda and Obsidian goodness.

"Hgggnnnn…"

Lyra groaned deeply into her pillow the second she had closed the door behind her and leapt onto the bed.

_Whiskey; meet ill-advised courage._

Whatever had convinced her of the brilliant idea had conveniently disappeared, Lyra left with nothing but an awkward wrench deep inside of her. She knew what she had done was wrong and intrusive… but she had enjoyed doing it simultaneously; the gaps in her judgment left Lyra feeling as if a link in the chain was missing. The man's wife was dead, for how long Lyra didn't know-

_-__**That **__doesn't matter, remember? Because you made a mistake, _right_?_

He had shot his own wife. What if Boone was not as he appeared to be? There was an incredible probability that Boone was nothing but a sociopath, taking advantage of naïveté amongst locals and travelers.

_No… I can __**feel**__ it from him. There's much more than those cold eyes show… _

On the other side of the spectrum however, Boone was just an immensely damaged man. He went out of his way to protect her and be her companion… considering Lyra had little one else to depend on, the attachment was inevitable. Regardless of his hard, loner exterior Lyra could see broken pieces of who he _had been_; his humanity was still there, just tricky to coax out. They were survivors together, of both their own traumas and ones shared. The truth was Lyra knew that a bond was created when fighting for one's life for she had felt it, maybe even before she had met Boone. She couldn't help but feel the growing connection was acting like a trigger; each shots impact opening a wound of sensations. Sights… smell… taste – it wasn't just her physical surroundings, it was running at a deeper level. Boone had become an integral part of her life; the more they travelled only entangling their companionship further. When it becomes having to rely on that person as much as they do you… how could you not feel love?

_Time out, time out! You… are nothing more than a drunken harlot – do not kid yourself._

Lyra's mind had been a fuck show the last couple days; her common sense was out of whack; her emotions a chaotic tangle. Regardless of the boost connecting with House had given Lyra, it would be foolish of her to truly trust her decision making abilities.

_Maybe helping out Old King Shingles was not one of your _better _decisions? So… then you agree with, Boone?_

No, not entirely. Lyra was grateful for the cryptic man's hospitality, even his peculiarly calm demeanor regarding her spectacular failure. Though she did not _trust_ House, she knew he was the type to uphold a _business_ deal. If what he and Jane had explained was true – and the physical facts spoke for themselves on this one – the man didn't seem intent on destroying the world. Quite the contrary, he seemed quite hell-bent on… rebuilding. At least New Vegas. As long as Lyra ensured she got her end of the bargain, they could both cash out evenly and she'd be happy. All she wanted was some semblance of _who_ she was.

Stifling another groan, Lyra pulled her Pip-Boy to her nose; it was not too late in the evening and she wasn't going to be sleeping at any rate. Shaky hands slid down Lyra's face as she sat up on her bed, plopping her head in the palm of her hand as she sighed. She couldn't keep her mind off of Boone; she knew she owed him an apology for crossing something that was surely a boundary for him. Steeling her will, Lyra timidly opened her door and tip toed to the living room, her nerves through the roof as she saw Boone's broad shoulders and the back of his neck. He was sitting with his back against the arm of the couch, his beret off and draped over the couches backing. Lyra could not clearly see his face or where his hands sat.

"What?"

Lyra took a deep breath and nervously stepped back over to the couch, the beginning of their conversation off to a horribly expected start. As Lyra came in full view of Boone she noticed the man now had one of the expensive-looking bottles of whiskey clutched in a large hand, a second empty bottle lying on the floor beside him. Lyra stared at the bottle in Boone's hand warily even as he brought it up to his lips, the sniper taking a deep gulp while Lyra watched his Adam's apple bob from swallowing the liquid. She rubbed one hand up her opposite arm as she stood before him, too uncomfortable to sit.

_Two and a half bottles in ten minutes? I thought _**this**_ wasn't going to be a problem, Boone…_

Lyra sighed to herself and decided to cut the awkward silence, her eyes refusing to meet Boone's, "I'm sorry. That was out of line."

Boone looked up at Lyra, his brows creasing in a frown. Though the man had downed nearly two full bottles of whiskey, he still remained eerily composed.

"Heh. Yeah."

Lyra felt her throat tighten and she nodded mutely, unaware of what else to offer. He had lost his wife, his child… his life. The only thing Boone wanted ever again was his revenge on Caesar… and what Lyra suspected, a fitting death prior to, during or following that ambition. Lyra had a pretty good idea about why he had given in to his darker temptations tonight, though it still rattled her to the core. The silent sniper had been her rock… the sight of him having a private break down only filled her with a deeper shame. In a place that surely sent an assault of memories back to him, she had invaded a private physical boundary that had once belonged to the one person who deserved it. She'd been wrong to cross that line and now she was paying for it.

"Boone… I-"

"Lyra, life has a way of punishing you for the mistakes you make. Big enough mistake, punishment can take a while. Mine's not over yet," Boon rumbled from the couch, the only indication of his intoxication being a slight slurring of his words. The torment emanating from them was a different story.

_Wha-where did that come from?_

"Boone if you feel that I've compromised our companionship then… just tell me. If you want to go back to Novac, there's nothing I would have to say," Lyra explained, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks a bit. Was it petty of her to feel offended that she had now joined his list of mistakes?

"It's not that," Boone's voice was tight, caught somewhere between his usual growl and a whisper, "I have bad things coming to me. Pretending it wasn't so did nothing to change that fact; just made it worse. People I cared about wound up hurt in the process. If you get too close, you will, too."

_What does that mean?_

Lyra's face softened and she slowly stepped forward, taking a seat in the opposite corner of the couch before resting her elbow on its back, her knuckles pressed to the side of her head, "Is it because of Bitter Springs that you think you have bad things coming? You're not a bad person, Craig and… whatever mistakes you may have made, your good outweighs it," She whispered softly, watching as Boone continued to drink out of the dusty bottle.

Boone swallowed bitterly as he chugged the remaining dregs of the whiskey. Lyra jumped as he suddenly threw it across the room, the bottle smashing into the wall behind her. Craig groaned and rubbed at his eyes before he stood and went back to the liquor cabinet, hastily grabbing another bottle before he sat down across from Lyra again. For a brief moment their eyes met and Lyra felt a stab of guilt when she saw the anguish in the man's eyes. Boone twisted off the cap of the bottle and took another gulp before setting it down on the floor beside him, bringing his hands into his lap as he awkwardly cracked his knuckles, rubbing his hands together as he stared at the carpet for a minute. Lyra bit her bottom lip, feeling herself on uneven ground before Boone took in a deep breath, turning his head to look at Lyra.

"A murderer who does good deeds is still a murderer. And he'll still get his judgment."

The severity of Boone's words sunk in and Lyra felt ashamed for believing the man was merely on a suicidal, revenge fueled rampage. Though she certainly felt the former was true, the latter had suddenly become much more complicated. It wasn't a blind revenge that drove the man… it was an all-encompassing guilt for the lives he had taken, Carla's and otherwise. He _wanted_ death… atonement for whatever sins he believed he was guilty of. Boone had never told Lyra _anything_ about his tour of duty but she was not ignorant of the expectations of soldiers; Boone had seen and done things - coupled with the personal trauma of his wife's death - that would throw anyone's moral compass out of whack. The man was working on a clearly self-imposed dead line, his eagerness for retribution upon _him_ completely off base of Lyra's original assumption.

"I left the NCR when my tour was up. Had enough of war," Boone's words sounded sickened, "Decided I was gonna start over. None of it made a difference in the end."

Lyra frowned at the bitterness in Boone's voice, fighting the urge to yank his hands free of the bottle he was bringing back to his lips, "Boone, you've endured so much…. How do you know your punishment hasn't already come and gone? If there's even punishment at all?"

"Because I'm still alive."

Lyra's body reacted before her mind could protest as she pushed herself towards his side of the couch, her hand pushing the bottle away from his lips as she brought her arms around his neck and held him tightly.

_I don't fucking care how much you hate this you drunk; I take back my apology, damn it!_

"Not everyone who falters is damned," She whispered, ignoring the hand that attempted to push her away and the abrupt manner his body stiffened under her touch when she finally succeeded to press herself closely against him. Her fingers gripped the fabric of his shirt as she held him, spurred on by the feeling of his body faintly relaxing into her touch. His one hand that had been pushing against her ribs now slowly clutched her in turn, the other hand dropping the bottle of whiskey to the floor, its contents spilling onto the floor as his arm began to hesitantly wrap around Lyra's waist and back. Her breath caught as she felt him yank her closer and the two sat ensnared for a few moments in painful silence, Lyra's hand absent-mindedly rubbing the stubble of hair on the back of his head.

"Would it help to return to Bitter Springs? We could go there. I'll make House wait if I have to."

Boone let out a quiet, sour laugh.

"Bitter Springs… Carla… When I realized I had lost whatever was left of me after, I made myself a promise. I wanted to forget all of it. Didn't work out that way," Boon turned his eyes to meet Lyra's, his hand reaching up to trace a calloused finger down her machete scar, "You're not the only one getting flashbacks in this place. It's hard enough here… Bitter Spring's is a memory I don't want refreshed."

Lyra nodded as her eyes bore into Boone's, her hand sliding from the back of his head to rub behind his ears, finally resting under his jaw line. Boone closed his eyes to her touch and Lyra felt the words come out of her mouth before she had time to stop.

"How long… has Carla been gone?"

Boone lowered his gaze from hers and sighed, "Two years… I rotted in that god damn dinosaur for two years before you… came up the road," he whispered as a hand trailed up her back, his fingers burying themselves in her soft hair. Lyra slowly drew her face closer to his, the tips of their noses grazing as she felt his warm breath across her skin. Her lips brushed against his and she felt Boone push back, the hand in her hair gripping the locks between his fingers tightly as he pressed his lips against hers. Lyra opened her mouth to welcome him further, stifling a groan as he pulled her closer against him.

"Carla..."

Immediately Lyra pulled away and looked at Boone in horror, disgusted with herself above all else. She couldn't place whatever emotions Boone was feeling as his stony visage had been instantly restored the second Lyra had pulled herself away from him.

"I can't do this," She whispered, her eyes watering from the immense guilt that was boiling over. Boone was drunk and not in a good place. Lyra knew better.

_Don't I?_

"You're right. This was a mistake," Boone growled as he pulled his hand away from Lyra's hair and slowly pushed her off of him as he stood up from the couch, his turn to leave her alone and silent. Lyra watched as he stumbled towards the spare room across the hall, the slamming of his door causing Lyra to jump.

"God damn it," Lyra groaned shakily and sat back down on the couch, burying her face into her hands. Boone had _wanted_ what was happening, his enthusiasm apparently on par with Lyra's. The problem was their mutual intoxication and now, their relationship had become complicated in a way Lyra had never intended. Had Boone been thinking of Carla the entire time? It was likely; the uttering of her name had brought Lyra to a slamming halt in front of a sign that read "Reality!"

_I can't do this. I can't go to bed and _pretend _nothing happened tomorrow!_

Lyra nodded to herself and made her way to Boone's room, refusing to knock on the door as she grabbed the handle and pushed it open. Boone was lying on his back in the bed, one arm tucked behind his head while his other hand rubbed at his eyes. When he realized Lyra was standing in the doorway, Boone sat up with a jolt and stared in aggravation at her.

"What the hell are you doing? Get out."

Lyra marched up to the foot of his bed and crossed her arms defiantly, "No. We need to sort this shit out pronto. You may be ok with smothering inconvenient truths but I don't work that way."

Boone glared at her, his mouth turning into an ugly sneer, "Would it be more _convenient_ for you if I left tomorrow, then?"

Lyra groaned in frustration and ran her hand through her hair, "No! I… I don't want you to leave, please…" her voice grew smaller, "I just… want to know what just happened."

"I had too much to drink. Won't happen again. Now go to bed."

"Boone…"

"Lyra, I mean it. Leave me alone."

Lyra glared at Boone and shook her head, determined to look more pissed off than hurt. Without a second thought she balled her hand into a fist and sent it on a meet-and-greet to Boone's angular face. Boone's head snapped back and he coughed a mouthful of blood onto the clean sheets, his hand reaching up slowly to rub off whatever remained on his face.

"What the **fuck** is wrong with you?" He seethed, shooting up from his bed to tackle Lyra to the floor. Lyra let out a yelp as all of the large man's weight slammed into her, the wind being knocked out of her as her back slammed into the floor. Lyra grunted and wedged her knee into the man's abdomen, jutting her thigh out _hard. _

"God _damn it_," Boone hissed, his bulky arms trying to contain Lyra's flailing limbs, "You've fucking lost it!"

"I've lost it? You're the one who's too pussy to accept he made some fucking _mistakes_! Put your fucking vagina away! You're so pathetically defeated – the self-loathing schtick gets old fast, asshole!" Lyra growled, half grunting as she struggled to wiggle out of Boone's grasp. She finally slipped through one of his arms vice like grips and kicked her way from the tough man, scrambling to the other side of the room. Boone looked **pissed** and Lyra wasn't so sure she would come out of this. Boone's close-quarter combat training may not have been extensive, but Lyra wasn't going to kid herself; Boone was a _big _boy and without a weapon, she didn't stand much of a damned chance.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" Boone seethed as he menacingly took a step towards her, "Your disgustingly holier-than-thou act is a joke. Not singing the same tune anymore, are we?"

"I just want you to fucking talk to me for once!"

"So you punch me in the _face?_"

Lyra scowled at Boone, "Yes – You're being a dickbag! I don't handle mixed signals well; I have a hard enough time deciphering _you_ as it is; now I don't know where the fuck I am!"

"Oh no, no – fuck that. Don't play this game with me. You were the one sending those signals," Boone pointed his finger angrily at Lyra, "You got drunk, you _kissed_ me, left and came back for seconds. I just shouldn't have let it get that far."

"Well you did," Lyra coolly pointed out, "So where the hell does this leave us?"

Boone crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes as he studied Lyra, "I don't know."

The two stood awkwardly before each other, both completely at a loss with their seething anger. Lyra would never admit it to Boone but she knew where he was coming from. It was a pain in her ass to even admit it to herself but Lyra did not function _normally._ Craig was right; she had damn well instigated the whole thing, the constant tug of back and forth disorienting both participants easily. On the other hand however, Lyra was growing tiresome of Boone's constant lock outs. When it came to the man's past she could recede but now things had become complicated between _them_. Lyra's thought processes were so chaotic from that alone, the possibility of not receiving some clarity from Boone would send her teetering over the ledge she was already precariously perched on. She _needed_ Boone, and she had a sneaking suspicion the man was beginning to feel the same. It put them at an impasse but Lyra knew she deserved _something_ from him but as per usual, she was painfully shot down.

_No, maybe it's time to do some things on your own. Just leave it for now._

"I'm going to bed. Tomorrow, I'm dealing with Benny. You can stay here and wait for me, go back to Novac or jump off a fucking cliff for all I care. Just stay away from me for now," Lyra said quietly, unfolding her arms and dropping them to her sides. She looked upon Boone sadly and turned away, just as Boone's own face began to soften into nothing more than a smoldering sense of pain. As Lyra closed her door behind her she heard Boone's do the same. She dropped her robe to the floor and climbed into bed, hoping to high hell she wasn't going to regret her decision when she came face-to-face with the man who shot her.

_"Now you're lookin' a little lost, soldier. Need some directions?"_

_ Boone turned in the direction of the voice that had spoken to him- momentarily freed of his overwhelmed stupor. He had just walked out of the monorail from McCarran and made his way onto the Strip, the onslaught of sounds and sights a bit much for someone who grew up on a Brahmin ranch in California. There was a plethora of fellow troops flooding the whole place, Boone uncomfortable with the attention he was receiving from the intoxicated females, let alone the prostitutes outside of Gomorrah. Boone shook his head and turned to see the owner of the voice was a pretty blonde girl who stood with her arms crossed behind him, a lighthearted smirk on her sweet face._

_ "I'm going to take that as a yes," She smiled, flashing Boone brilliant white teeth as she walked up to him. She blushed slightly and held out her hand, "I'm Carla, welcome to The Strip."_

_ "Ma'am," Boone nodded and gently took Carla's hand in his, "First Sergeant Craig Boone."_

_ "Now sergeant, are you lookin' for some buddies of yours?"_

_ "Yes."_

_ Carla chuckled and flashed Boone another big smile, "Ok then. Where at? Tops? Gomorrah? It's usually Gomorrah… you boys sure do love their girls."_

_ Boone _had _heard enough stories about Gomorrah to know what Carla was getting at. Embarrassingly enough for him, it was indeed the spot Manny had told him their rooms were booked. Boone suddenly wasn't so keen on making his way there. He coughed awkwardly and avoided Carla's patient stare._

_ "Unsure ma'am – I'm still waititng on my buddies to arrive. Was going to wander until then."_

_ "Craig, I've lived in New Vegas my whole life and it's not often I can find such a polite, potential escort. It's mutually beneficial – I get to walk around un-harassed for once, and you get to see the sights. Does that sound okay to you?"_

_ Boone observed the woman smiling kindly at him and couldn't help but feel the wall around him crumble._

God damn, she is pretty.

_Craig nodded and extended his elbow out for the young woman, feeling his stomach jump hoops as she slipped her arm through his. She blushed deeply and looked up at him, biting her lower lip as curiosity filled her features._

_ "Now where did you learn manners like this, Craig?"_

_ "My Ma was pretty adamant."_

_ Carla let out a chuckle and shook her head, "Let me guess; farm boy?"_

_ "How could you tell?"_

_ "Like the muscles weren't indication enough," Carla quipped, patting Boone's forearm lightly with her hand, "I can see clearly enough you're an NCR soldier, but the nice ones were usually ranchers first."_

_ Boone coked his eyebrow and felt a tinge of wariness, "The nice one's? You met a lot of us?"_

_ "Enough. I live here Craig, let's be honest now. I can't walk five feet without bumping into one of you troops," Carla admonished, giving Boone a slight tug in the direction of the gate to where The Tops was. _

_ "Let's get a drink in The Tops; it's my favorite. Good enough food, too. Everyone will tell you Ultra Luxe is the best but I don't agree. There's something wrong with that place."_

_ "Alright."_

_ Carla and Boone made their way over to the doors of The Tops, Carla turning to Boone outside the door._

_ "You're not carrying are you?"_

_ "Not supposed to be."_

_ Carla nodded and smiled in relief as the two entered the casino._

_ "'Ey Carla, welcome back."_

_ Carla absently waved at the man watching the doors, waiting patiently as he checked Boone and her for weapons. She said goodbye and lead Boone further in, the two headed for the stairs._

_ "The Aces theatre is a good time, usually. They need some more acts but the liquors' always good," Carla explained as they climbed the stairs._

_ "Don't want to gamble?" _

"_Not usually. I like to keep the Caps I have," Carla explained. The two made their way into the theatre, Boone glancing at the stage to see a group of men crooning to the crowd. He followed Carla to a booth towards the back of the place, Carla sitting happily across from him. Boone didn't know what to say so he remained silent, turning his head to watch the performers as he awkwardly sat across from the stunning woman. He heard Carla stifle a giggle and she rose from her seat, standing in front of him beside the table._

"_I guess I'll go get us some drinks then."_

_Boone snapped out of his trance and cleared his throat awkwardly, rising from his seat before gesturing to Carla to sit back down._

"_Please ma'am, I can manage just fine."_

_Carla shrugged and sat back down as Boone turned to make his way to the bar. Half way there he sighed to himself and embarrassingly made his way back to where Carla sat. He didn't know how to feel about the amused smile she had across her lips. Boone didn't even have to open his mouth before Carla kindly spoke._

"_Rye and ginger please, handsome."_

_Boone nodded and silently made his way back to the bar, feeling more than slightly foolish. Perhaps this breach in his usual demeanor had been an embarrassing mistake. Craig wasn't used to women – he'd spent most of his young adulthood alone in the hills of his family's ranch, keeping an eye out for coyote and Yao Gui. Once he joined the military, any interactions with fellow female soldiers were strictly professional. Boone was out of his element, fraternizing with a local _civvie_ leaving him in uncharted territory. _

"_What can I get you, sir?"_

_Boone looked up at the bartender and rested his palms on the edge of the counter, "Rye and ginger and a Scotch on the rocks, please."_

_The bartender nodded and Boone looked back over to make sure Carla was still sitting at the booth, half of him convinced she'd already run off. When he saw her wave at him he couldn't contain the stupid smile that spread across his face. It wasn't that Boone had never received any attention from the opposite sex – hell, his first twenty minutes in New Vegas proved that – but this girl didn't just seem to want in his pants. She was polite and appeared exceptionally proper, something Boone liked. Being in the military had a habit of turning some females crass and over confident – corporal Betsy prominent in his mind- Boone was unable to deny his desire for something a little softer around the edges. He felt unusually relaxed around Carla, if not slightly awkward due to his inexperience. _

"_Your drinks, sir."_

"_Thank you," Boone swiped the two glasses off the bar between the fingers of his one hand, his other hand reaching into his pocket to dump a small pile of Caps onto the bars surface. He nodded at the bartender and made his way back over to the booth, gently placing Carla's glass before her. He sat down and accepted her cheers, clinking his glass against hers before they both took a sip._

"_So Craig, tell me a little about yourself. I'm curious."_

_Boone cleared his throat and awkwardly toyed with the glass in his hands, "Not much to say, ma'am. Born and raised in the NCR, lived on a Brahmin ranch far West and was conscripted into the military. Now I'm here – currently on leave from Camp McCarran."_

"_The red beret is certainly a fashion statement."_

"_I'm First Recon, ma'am."_

"_Cut out the 'ma'am' thing, my name is Carla," She said as she rolled her eyes playfully, "What does your unit do? I've never seen any other NCR personnel in hats like yours."_

"_Sniper unit… Miss Carla."_

"_Interesting. Never fired a rifle myself. I bet I'd be a lousy shot, anyway," Carla smiled ruefully and took a deep swig of her rye and ginger. Boone smirked and did the same to his own drink. _

"_What about you, Miss Carla?"_

_Carla gave a great stretch and dropped her hands from the air to fiddle with the strands of her long blonde hair, "Well, like I said I've lived in the Strip my whole life pretty much. Have some close friends in Freeside just as much in the Casino's – it's paradise in the Wasteland… I just wish more could share it, especially those in Freeside."_

"_Didn't think locals of such a fancy place would want to share."_

"_Most don't. I've seen other parts of the Wasteland, though. People need help and it could happen if House didn't rule based on mere economic prosperity. Letting in 'riff-raff,' as he'd say, would diminish The Strip's value," Carla said bitterly as she took another swig of her drink. Boone looked at her curiously._

"_Why stay?"_

_Carla sighed and looked at Boone hopelessly, "I don't know where to go to be honest. All I've ever known is this place. I've got unfinished business here, friends, family... From what I've seen of the Wastes, I admit to retaining some serious apprehension."_

_Boone nodded approvingly, "That's smart. It's dangerous out there, Carla. You're safe here."_

"_Anyone behind bar's is safe, Craig."_

_Boone chewed on the inside of his cheek as he contemplated Carla's words, wondering exactly how she felt about living on The Strip. There was sadness behind her words and it was clear to Boone that she loved her home. How Carla, or any citizens of New Vegas, truly felt about their enigmatic ruler's system was foreign to Craig; he could understand however, that Carla felt there was room for improvement. Most citizens of any state maintain some form of complaint against their ruling government. New Vegas couldn't be any different. Craig wanted to ask Carla where she actually lived but thought better of it; he didn't want to come off as creepy._

"_If you'd like, I can walk with you to Gomorrah. I'm sure you're anxious to meet your friends. I've taken up so much of your time as it is," Carla blushed as she slid out of the booth, standing shyly before Boone. He rose to his feet and held his arm out for Carla again, the pair making their way out of the theatre. _

"_Actually, if it isn't being too forward, I'd appreciate if you'd be willing to join," Boone remembered what sort of place Gomorrah was and stumbled over his words awkwardly, "That is-uh if you don't mind visiting Gomorrah."_

"_It's fine. It's not like I've never been in there before. I'm not as innocent as I look," Carla chuckled as they walked down the Strip, shooting Boone a racy smile as her eyebrow cocked upwards. Boone straightened his back a bit and cleared his throat, suddenly very aware of the numerous troops and citizens that would turn their heads to look over. He allowed himself a brief swell of pride, pleased that on his first leave in a while he'd managed to snag the attentions of someone so pretty… and perfect. The truth was every minute that passed Boone felt more enthralled with Carla's company, finding he was surprisingly more relaxed in her presence. He listened as Carla chatted on about the Strip, pointing out numerous people and places as they made their way to Gomorrah._

"_Am I talking too much?"_

_Boone shook his head and smiled, "No, it's alright. I never know what to say."_

_Carla giggled and leaned her head against Boone's bicep, "Yeah well- you're not much of a talker and __**I**__ can talk _too_ much sometimes, so you just shut me up when it's a bit too much, ok?"_

_Boone came to a halt and stared at Carla bemusedly, "I wouldn't do that. Your talkin' sits just fine with me, Miss Carla. I like hearing what you have to say."_

_Carla slid her hand down Boone's arm and gave his large, calloused hand a squeeze, "You're sweet, Craig."_

_Boone swallowed hard and was about to speak when a voice rang out ahead of them._

"_There you are, you bastard! Where the hell have you been?"_

_A groan of aggravation escaped Boone's lips and he shyly pulled his hand from Carla's, the girl caught off-guard by his sudden detachment. Craig's friend and spotter strolled up to the pair, a smarmy grin across his face as his eyes lay upon Carla. He clapped a hand onto Boone's shoulder and barked out a laugh._

"_I don't believe my eyes. Boone, you picked up a broad?"_

"_Manny, watch your god damn mouth," Boone hissed, embarrassed by the way Manny referred to Carla. He looked at Carla, nervous of her reaction to his crass friend and was pleased to see her confidently sneering right back at the man._

"_I picked _him _up, actually. You only serve to make him seem more charming."_

_Manny scowled in Carla's direction, "Well, glad I could deliver, toots. Now if you don't mind, my boy and I have a date with some tables and women less frigid than you."_

"_By all means, don't let me rain on your parade. You enjoy your leave, Mr. Boone," Carla quipped coolly as she began to turn and walk away. Boone punched Manny in the arm and shot him a pissed off glare. As he turned to follow Carla, he felt Manny grab his arm and yank him back._

"_Man fuck that, if the broad really wants you… she'll come back. She knows where you are. Why don't you trust your spotter a little, hm?"_

"_Because you're an asshole. You just took a big dump on whatever chances I had. God damn it," Craig hissed as he turned and followed Manny into the Casino, his embarrassment the only thing preventing him from turning and running after Carla. _

"_Man, have you seen this place? You've got choice pickin's. Even if that hot little number doesn't come crawling' back, there's plenty more where that came from," Manny explained as he and Boone were patted down. The two made their way to the elevators, Manny explaining bitterly how he'd had enough time to check them in and had hauled their luggage to their rooms._

"_Great help on that one, champ," Manny sneered as he handed Boone his room key, "You're in the one next to mine. I'm havin' a shower. Meet me in the lobby of the casino in an hour, alright? And don't get lost with some hot number without me."_

_Boone rolled his eyes as he slid the key home, opening his hotel room as Manny disappeared into his own. The room wasn't anything spectacular but it was a helluva lot better than what his sleeping arrangements had been over the last 5 years. Craig noted his duffel bag stowed into the corner of the room before he threw himself onto the bed, running his hands down his face in exasperation. He lay like that for several minutes as his mind replayed the events of the afternoon. Carla had been an unexpected but welcome addition to his day, Boone now mournful his chances of seeing her again had been significantly reduced._

God damn it. She had been somethin' else.

_There was a knock on Boone's door and he contemplated not answering it, more than slightly perturbed at Manny was it was; his sense of time another piss off to add to the list. Boone got up from the bed and made his way to the door, about to release an earful when he realized it as Carla standing expectantly on the other side. Boone did a double take._

"_C-Carla? How did you-"_

_Before Boone could get another word out, Carla placed a finger to his lips and pushed Craig back into his room with her free hand. As she closed the door behind her with a kick of her leg, she smiled up at him and laughed, "The receptionist and I are on good terms. She let me know your room number."_

"_I-I didn't think they would do that. Breach of security," Boone dumbly muttered, his brain ceasing to function properly at the moment. Carla's hand was slowly sliding up his chest, reaching to toy with the collar of his shirt. Boone felt his cheeks grow hot and stepped back a bit, unsure of how to proceed._

"_Don't worry, I'm not here to seduce you and rob you blind like other broads on the Strip," Carla said as she blushed deeply herself, "Just… disappointed we separated on the wrong foot."_

_Boone sighed in relief, "Me too. I'm sorry about Manny. He can be a prick."_

"_It's alright; I can deal with pricks," Carla shrugged as her hand began to slide back down Boone's chest. She hooked a finger into the waistband of his fatigues and tilted her head back to smile up at the man, "I'd like to spend some more time with you, if you'd like that of course."_

"_Yes."_

"_How long are you on leave for?"_

"_One week," Boone admitted regretfully, disappointed he would be cursed with so little time._

"_But… you're stationed in the Mojave for now, right?" Carla asked hopefully, pulling herself closer to Craig, her head practically under his chin. _

"_Yes."_

"_Then it's settled," Carla beamed, her hands reaching up to interlock behind Boone's neck. The warmth of her palms sent shivers down Boone's spine and he had to fight the urge to wrap his arms tightly around her in turn, the man finding himself utterly dazed by the series of events._

"_What is?"_

"_I'll come to see you anytime you want this week. You just let me know when and I'll be here. Provided you don't find me too repulsive… we can figure something out after your leave is up."_

"_You…wait, what?" Boone asked confusedly, unsure of what had just happened, "As in, wait for me?"_

"_As in I'm asking you out, Craig."_

_Boone choked on something nonexistent in his throat and awkwardly retreated from Carla. The girl was _forward_ and it sent Craig reeling; he'd always been too awkward to approach women, let alone appealing enough to be outwardly approached by them beyond drunken flirtations. Carla was something incredibly different, someone unlike anyone else he had ever met before both in California and Nevada. He had always been a pessimistic person but Boone found smothering the chiding voice in the back of his head was surprisingly easy; Carla felt _right_ and regardless of his paranoia, he hadn't felt a desire to _want _something –someone this bad before in his life._

_Carla bit her lower lip and pulled further away from Boone, "If I'm out of line, I'm sorry. I don't want you to feel pressured," she whispered unsurely. Craig shook his head slowly and stepped closely to Carla again, a hand reaching to cup her jaw line as he brought his lips to hers in a timid kiss. Carla smiled into the kiss and returned it, her arms encircling the back of his neck as his own wrapped around her small waist. _

"_I can't believe my lu-" Boone began as he looked into Carla's eyes but stopped suddenly, realizing he now found Lyra's eyes staring back at him. He released his arms from her waist and stepped back, staring in disbelief._

"_Lyra?"_

_Lyra blinked at Boone and shook her head, confusion sprawling across her features, "Craig, it's me."_

"_Carla?"_

"_No, Lyra."_

"_What?" Boone asked, reaching a hand up to push his beret of his scalp, his hand simultaneously rubbing it. None of this made any sense. Where the hell was Carla?_

"_Craig, do you not see me? Have you forgotten me already?"_

"_Carla, I didn't forget you," Boone explained helplessly as he rushed forward again, taking Lyra into his arms. He didn't understand what the fuck was going on but he knew he wanted to touch her. His reality was swiftly taking a severe nose dive. _

"_You've got to look after me. I can't do this on my own," Lyra whimpered into Craig's chest. _

"_Shh, I won't leave you alone," Craig hushed Lyra, petting a hand down her smooth hair. When Lyra pulled back to smile at him, Craig felt his head ache as he peered down at Carla once more, tears streaming down her cheeks. _

"_You won't find me until you go. You have to go, Craig. Please… for me," Carla begged sadly, Craig feeling a swarm of horrifying memories surge back at him – the stench of death and burning flesh assaulting his senses._

"_I can't, I… can't," Boone protested. _

"_Promise it won't happen again," She whispered, her voice strikingly similar to Lyra's. Or had Lyra's always been that way? Craig had a second to ponder the fresh realization before he heard a pathetic cry come from Lyra. He looked down to see a gaping bullet wound in her forehead, blood now cascading alongside the tears that streaked her face. As Boone stepped back in horror her face began to fluctuate wildly between Carla's and Lyra's, the scene grisly and disturbing as Boone watched helplessly. As he reached forward to grab the young woman he felt a tremendous pull and found himself staring at nothing but – _

-Blackness.

Boone shot up in the guest bed, his body slick with a sheen of sweat. He panted loudly and threw the blankets off of himself, the lack of windows in the room panicking him further. He darted to the sink across his bed and violently brought up all of the delicious steak and whiskey he had consumed that night. He heaved until his sides hurt, his body rejecting the copious amount of alcohol he had drowned it in hours before. A shaky hand came to his mouth when it was finally over while the other reached for the face cloth sitting atop the sink. He turned on the tap, soaking the cloth in the cold water before he brought it to his face.

"Fuck," He breathed as memories of the night before came flooding back, his dream fresh in his memory. The dream had been bizarre without a doubt – if not exceptionally _real _but he couldn't lie that it was Lyra dominating his current thoughts more so than the usual Carla. Carla was dead and Lyra needed him; Boone couldn't deny that. He'd been an asshole and had given into physical desires he had long kept dormant. Lyra deserved better than being used as a confusing outlet for said needs and he knew he owed her an explanation. He couldn't let her go to Benny on her own; it was too dangerous and he wasn't about to let his pig headedness put her in further danger.

Craig pulled his fatigues on, opting to remain shirtless as he marched towards Lyra's room. The odd cowboy robot was still in his usual position by the elevator as Boone made his way to Lyra's door. He knocked but received no response. The lack of windows in the apartment made it impossible for Boone to have any real concept of what time it was, leaving him to wonder if she was still fast asleep.

"She's not there, pardner – missed the little lady already."

Boone wheeled and faced the robot, "Are you kidding me? Where is she?"

"I reckon she's gone to make her acquaintance with that Benny fellow. They'll be at the Top's if you're lookin'."

"What time is it?"

"Well, it'll be close to noon time, I reckon."

"Fuck!" Boone cried as he ran back to his room, hoping Lyra had not gotten herself hurt before he could get to her.

_I'll be damned if another bullet enters that body._


	13. The world doesn't matter

_**Note: Week off soon so I'll try to get more updates in! Here's one in the meantime! Thank you again to all of my faithful readers and reviewers – I'm beyond pleased you're all enjoying this. I'm finally starting to delve deeper into Lyra's and Boone's history. As the story progresses, I hope you all like the idea's as much as I do! Thank you, again!**_

_**Disclaimer: All content taken directly from Fallout: New Vegas is the explicit property of Bethesda and Obsidian entertainment!**_

"Hey there, baby… there's more of this inside."

Lyra cringed at the prostitutes' come-hither, shaking her head as she walked past Gomorrah and headed towards the gates. She stopped to pull a cigarette out of her pack, grateful for its slightly stale taste as she lit it. Her nerves were killing her. Lyra knew it was a bad idea to go into the Tops without Boone, but her pride had won that argument. After the mess that had been last night, Lyra was more than hesitant to ask Boone for _anything._

_Asshole._

She had left early in the morning, specifically setting her alarm and hoping the lack of natural light would keep Boone knocked out. Lyra felt pretty confident the excessive amounts of liquor he had consumed the night before would get the job done, even _if_ the place had windows.

Taking a long drag on her cigarette, Lyra accepted the Securitron's assistance as it yanked the large gate open for her, nodding her thanks as she stepped through. The Tops was up ahead and to her right, it's flashing golden lights giving her a headache. She had given up trying to decipher what her damaged mind was struggling to tell her, resolving to just accept the fact that The Strip must have played an integral part in her past. Every sight resounded deep inside Lyra, brief flashes of memory titillating her as she walked down its cracked and broken streets.

_It wasn't like you just sprung out of a cactus, for fucks sake._

That was true enough. Lyra had had a life before her luck had run out and giving into her bewilderment of her surroundings was growing tiresome. Maybe she'd run into someone who _had_ known her previously, maybe she already had? It didn't matter, either way she had business she intended to take care of – the off chance she'd run into an old chum hardly at the top of her priority list. Lyra smirked to herself as she took another hard drag on her smoke, halting her steady walking pace as a stumbling NCR troop approached her.

"Wow… I would loooooooooove… to buy yoush a drink."

The young man teetered on the spot in front of her, Lyra barely containing an outright laugh.

"I don't think so."

"Come on, baby… we all need to lighten up!"

Lyra shook her head bemusedly as she strode past him, the drunken trooper simply moving on to the next young woman down the street. She took a final drag on her cigarette as she approached the doors of the Tops, deftly flicking it out of her fingers before she pushed the large doors open.

"Hey, mama! What's the haps? Gonna need you to leave your weapons with me, pretty lady. You'll get them back on your way out."

_Shit. _

There was the first snag in Lyra's plan – she'd had no idea her weapons would be taken from her at the door. That little tidbit would have certainly been something Boone was aware of, Lyra feeling a frustrating pang of regret even as it dawned on her. While she had left the majority of her gear back at the Lucky 38, the few weapons' she did bring were being promptly taken from her as she was patted down.

_Shoulda grabbed some brass knuckles, a blade… hell _anything. _Stupid, stupid, stupid._

"You're cool, baby. Go on in and enjoy the tables!"

"Uh, thank you," Lyra muttered awkwardly as she made her way into the casino, absently appreciating the high domed ceiling of its entrance. First thing on her list was acquiring some sort of weapon, her own disgust with herself reaching a critical point as she began to climb the stairs to her left. This casino was run by one of the big Families of New Vegas and while she was positive there were weapon's _somewhere_ within its walls, acquiring them was an entirely different matter. Lyra had been hasty and was now going to pay for it.

_Admit it, you miss him already._

Lyra squashed the thought as it came, angry at herself for even thinking it. Truthfully, she **was** missing Boone at that moment; his presence had become a comforting constant to her. Enforcing a separation from him was a difficult decision for Lyra and she was beginning to wonder if it was she who would learn a hard lesson from it, rather than the other way around. Lyra wrung her hands out nervously as she reached the top of the stairs, noting the cashier and a set of double doors with neon lights reading "Ace's Theatre" across the top – neither were what she was looking for, Lyra remembering House mention Benny's room would be on the thirteenth floor.

"Hey, sweet cheeks. You look a little lost."

Lyra turned and smiled awkwardly at the blonde Chairman standing before her, his hair meticulously slicked back and styled. The man oozed smarmy and Lyra quickly glanced around from the top of the stairs, noting just how many other guards like him peppered the floor of the place. She needed to get her proverbial shit together before the rest of them grew suspicious.

"Maybe I am, handsome. Just a little," She purred, slinking up to the man to adjust his tie, "I've got a room booked and my, are those tables lookin' inviting. It's just… this is embarrassing - I can't seem to find the elevators."

"I dig, toots. I'll show you where dem elevators are at," The chairman said as he turned and began leading the way, Lyra rolling her eyes at the blush that had crept onto the man's face.

_It's like butter._

Lyra followed the suited man back down the stairs and was just about to turn with him towards the elevators when she noticed a cluster of Chairman Bodyguards across the floor. She halted in her steps, causing the man in front of her to stop and look at her curiously.

"Hey, the elevators are over this way, babydoll."

Lyra ignored him as her eyes fell upon a man in the centre of the guards, a man in what looked like a checkered suit. She turned back to the Chairman before her, reaching into her pockets to dump a handful of caps into his.

"Thanks for your assistance, sugar. I think I found what I was looking for."

Before he could respond Lyra made her way across the casino floor, her hunger for the answers to her questions quickly throwing her caution to the wind. She just wanted to _talk_ to him, right? Lyra hadn't set anything in stone and provided he didn't shoot her or vice versa, she really didn't have a need for a weapon now did she? Before Lyra could second-guess her decision any further she had approached the guards, the men stunned as she slid her way between them, immediately coming to a stop in front of the table the checkered man sat at.

Benny looked up in genuine shock, quickly gesturing to his men to lower their weapon's - much to Lyra's surprise, "What in the god damn…" he nervously looked around, his hand reaching up to adjust the collar of his shirt, "Let's keep this in the groove, hey? Smooth moves, smooth. Put your weapon's down boys, no need to concern our customers…"

The man was blatantly shaken, Lyra finding his bizarre behavior disconcerting.

"I think you know why I'm here, Benny," Lyra said coolly as she seated herself across from him, very aware of the concealed guns that were trained on her.

"Hello! That broad everyone saw go into the Lucky 38, that was you? Oh shit."

_Don't tell him about, House. Play this right, Lyra…_

Lyra rolled her eyes and dodged his assertion, "Seems like you need to work on your marksmanship, asshole."

Benny looked up and sneered at Lyra, "I hit what I was aiming for. Guess you had brains to spare. Or are you just thick skulled?" Lyra glared at Benny heatedly and he continued, "Either way baby, this is good news. Maybe I can finally sleep at night, knowing you didn't die. What-say you and me cash out; go somewhere more private-like? Any questions you got, I'll answer."

Lyra contemplated what the man was offering, caught off-guard by his friendly facade. The man had shot her in the head and here he sat professing his relief at her survival. Truthfully, Lyra didn't know what to make of the situation, deciding to just run with it.

"What'd you have in mind, exactly?"

"To start, I'll comp you the Presidential – best suite in the house. You deserve a taste of the VIP lifestyle once again. I'll hang out down here for a while to make everything look like business-as-usual, then come to you. Any questions you got I'll answer. Guaranteed."

"Two conditions," Lyra began, pointing her finger at Benny, "lose the bodyguards, and we both go to the suite now."

Benny tilted his head back as he regarded Lyra, narrowing his eyes, "If that's what it takes to win your trust again, that's what it takes. Follow me."

Lyra got up from her seat and followed Benny to a large set of elevator doors, her mind racing as she tried to come up with a plan of action. She had successfully detached him from his guard, but there was no telling what would happen to her the moment she was alone with the man. At least in the middle of the casino floor Benny seemed hesitant about any form of violence – in a private suite was a totally different matter. The two walked into the open elevator, Benny reaching forward to press the button for the thirteenth floor, both opting to remain silent. Lyra's mind nagged at her as she went over their conversation so far, realizing the man spoke as if he had known her beyond just sinking a bullet into her skull. Before Lyra had a chance to bring it up, the elevator emitted a delightful ding and the door smoothly slid open.

"Let's sit at the bar," Benny said as he led Lyra into the expansive suite, taking a seat at one of the bar stools himself. Lyra decided to stand, her eyes trailing over the top of Benny's head to study the safe that was planted into the wall behind him.

"Take a seat, baby – get comfortable."

"I'd rather stand," Lyra said tersely, crossing her arms over her chest as she stared at the slimy-looking man. Benny shrugged and stood, waltzing to the back of the bar to make himself a drink before he sat back down on his stool. He took a few sips of his drink as Lyra's eyes bore silently into him. He took one final swig before he set the glass down.

"Alright – now that you and mes got some privacy I gotta ask – how is it that you're still living?"

Lyra rolled her eyes and sighed exasperatedly, "Call it luck and leave it at that."

Benny grinned like a shark, "Luck is for losers, baby. Someone pulled strings. Nice scar you got der, though," he took another deep gulp from his glass, "How'd you track me down?"

Lyra fished into the pocket of her leather jacket and pulled out Benny's engraved lighter, "Seems you _dropped_ something in Boulder City."

Benny barked out a bitter laugh and slowly shook his head, "To think I deemed that flint box my lucky charm. Oh the irony… I guess that's enough scratching around at first base. Tell me, which way is the wind gonna blow?"

"I've got questions – a bunch of them."

"You got questions… I got answers," Benny shrugged and finished off his glass of liquor before standing to make himself another. Lyra had already gained a fair bit of information from House himself but she was curious to know _just_ how in the bag Benny was.

"First things first. Tell me about this god damned chip," Lyra demanded as she watched Benny pour himself another large glass of whiskey. He scooped the glass off the counter and sat back down at his stool, holding his glass up to Lyra before he took another sip and set the glass back down on the battered counter top.

"It's the house edge baby – literally. It's what needs to stack the odds in his favour."

"How does it work?"

"It's some kind of data storage device, dig? So it's the data on the Chip that's platinum, not the chip itself. Trouble is, the Chip don't fit any computer I've found. Must require _special _hardware."

"What does it do?"

"It has something to do with the Securitron's, I know that much. Upgrade's their hittin' power, gives them heft. Might be slightly useful if you're lookin' to defend the Strip from Caesar's Legion or the NCR. Or maybe both?"

Lyra chewed on her bottom lip and slowly sat in a stool beside Benny, twisting her body so she faced him, "I want to know more about House… what can you tell me?"

"A good cat to swing with. Or was – until he stopped mewing. It was House's big idea to resurrect the Strip –"

Lyra cut Benny off, shaking her head in frustration as she realized he was just going to regurgitate what she had heard from House himself, "Whatever. I know that much already," Her hand reached up to absently fiddle with her hair. Benny's gaze seemed to soften as she did so and Lyra felt unnerved – she could understand Benny acting strangely around someone he had presumed dead… but there was almost a sense of familiarity that _he _had for _her_ that ran at a deeper level. Lyra shook the thought out of her head.

"Be honest with me, Benny. What's your angle in all of this?"

Benny leaned forward and cocked his eyebrow at Lyra, "Broad strokes? Change in management. The Securitron's are where it's at. I need a way to control them, and a way to beef up their hitting power. I get those two ducks in a row; Vegas can defend itself from all comers – NCR… Legion… it won't matter."

A bitter snort escaped Lyra's nostrils, "Clearly willing to commit murder to make this happen, hm?"

Benny shot Lyra an admonishing glare, "Baby, do you not understand the level of game here? What I did to you was rotten, but if you think House, the NCR or Caesar won't kill to put Vegas in their pocket, I really did blow out your brain."

"Ruthlessness of others is a lame excuse, Benny."

Benny shrugged, "Was a time when I would have agreed with you. But this… it's too big, it affects too many people. I can't get hung up on those details."

Lyra narrowed her eyes bitterly, the cheapening of her life in Benny's scheme more than a slight piss off. Lyra reflexively clenched her fists, Benny's eyebrows rising at the act.

_Don't blow it now – you still need to get that fucking chip from him!_

"So what makes you think **you** can succeed?" she seethed.

"Baby, the odds may look long but that's just because _**we**_ain't done riggin' them. I won't toss the dice until we are. I've gleaned a lot working with Mr. House. Like I said, he was a good cat to swing with. I still got a lot to learn but it's… coming together," Benny explained as he rose from his seat, making his way over to a seat of couches in the middle of the room. He leaned against the backing of one, his back to the elevator they came up in.

"I get the hint…what are you offering?"

"You actually help me this time and before long, the Chairmen will rule all of Vegas, dig? With enough muscle to back it up. You'll get a sweet, juicy cut of that action. But until that day comes, I'll keep you on retainer, and pay bonuses for some _special mission's_ I got in line. How's that sound?"

Lyra barked out a laugh, "Like I'd trust you? No thanks."

Benny held up both his hands and took a step back from the couch, "I know, you figure me for a creep – you always did. It's your prerogative. If you change your mind, come find me on the casino floor. In the meantime, this suite is yours to come and go as you dig," He said, making his way back to the elevator.

Lyra's mind was racing, "I always **what**?" She stood from her stool and took a step towards Benny, utterly sure the man had known her prior to their high stakes game. She stopped herself before she could pry further however, realizing she was getting distracted from her main objective. She clenched her eyes shut and shook her head, "God damn it, Benny – that Chip belongs to me. Hand it over."

"Baby, ease off the gas. The Chip belongs in the hands of someone who can use it," Benny slowly made his way to the elevator doors, pressing the call button as he spoke, "As in me, not you. You'll get a _piece _of the action, and a sweet one. But the Chip sticks with me."

"You're a prick. You wrenched it from my dying hands in the first place! If it belongs to anyone, it's me!"

"Tough luck, toots. You never should have entered the game if you couldn't handle the stakes."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

A vicious grin spread across Benny's face, "Come on, baby – You left me high and dry in the first place then double crossed me. Not my fault bein' some domestic goddess wasn't your strong suite. He couldn't satisfy you like I did, huh baby? Too bad your triumphant return didn't work out like you expected."

_What… domestic goddess? Who the _hell _is he talking about?_

Disgust and confusion exploded across Lyra's face as she started to realize exactly what _sort_ of history Benny was implying they shared, "I don't know what the fuck you're talking about."

Benny let out a hearty laugh.

"Oh, ho! Don't tell me that noggin' of yours is all scrambled thanks to Maria? Ain't dat a trick! You don't remember a damn thing, do ya?"

Lyra gaped helplessly at Benny, completely thrown out of whack by his divulgence. Benny smirked and looked up at the top of the elevator doors, watching as the lights blinked closer to their floor. He turned back and grinned dangerously at Lyra.

"I gotta say, baby…. There was some serious satisfaction in pullin' the trigger on that pretty face of yours. Don't look the same anymore, though. Truthfully, I didn't recognize you at first. Only you'd be after that Chip, though…"

Lyra narrowed her eyes at Benny, her head pounding as her mind struggled to understand what he was implying. The memories were too incoherent, Lyra feeling nothing but frustration as she fought desperately to evoke the recollections. Benny lit a cigarette and looked up once again at the floor numbers, smiling to himself as the thirteenth lit up and a delightful ding rang out. He looked at Lyra once more, his smile cruel and cold.

"Tell me - that soldier boy of yours dead yet? Me and my boys sent him on quite the trip," Benny laughed maniacally as the elevator doors pulled open and he stepped inside, " Oh well, I'm sure he's dead by now. Just like you'll be."

Lyra's senses finally came to and she darted for the elevators, watching as they closed on Benny's smirking face, her hands uselessly pounding against them as they shut tightly. She turned around in panic, Benny's last words making it clear as day what lay in store for her. She ran for the safe, hoping to God it had what she was looking for. She fumbled with her pockets, dumping their contents onto the floor as she pulled out the box of bobby pins she constantly had on her. She allowed herself a brief sigh of relief as she ran back to the counter, grabbing a knife to use to jimmy the lock. She made short work of the safe, her heart bursting as she reached in and pulled out the ten millimeter SMG it held within. She quickly slammed the clip she found beside it home and darted to behind the bar, deciding it was her best defensive position. She waited anxiously as she watched the numbers above the elevator ominously blink closer to the suites floor.

_Ambush. Big fuckin' surprise. God damn it, you're an idiot. Why didn't you bring, Boone?_

Before Lyra had a chance to argue the nagging voice inside her head the elevator doors split and several Chairmen burst out, immediately spraying bullets across the bars counter. She ducked and resisted letting out a scream, a round bursting through the hollow shelving of the bar, Lyra yelping as it punctured the left side of her ribs. She threw herself to the floor, biting her lip hard as she impacted with the floor and peered around the corner, letting loose her own firestorm. One of the chairmen went down as her shots sunk themselves into his gut, the man screaming and clutching his stomach as he fell.

"Fuckin' bitch!"

Lyra literally felt a bullet zip past her head, crying out in pain as it seared across the flesh of her ear, Lyra unable to realize half of the fleshy appendage was now missing. She scrambled to her feet and launched herself to the other side of the bar, lying on her back as one of the Chairmen rounded the end of the bar she had just populated. She unloaded several rounds into the man's groin, his piercing scream still ringing in her ears as she launched herself over the bar, scrambling under the archway for the door to her immediate left. She screamed as several rounds caught her in her back and arms, Lyra literally crashing into the door, throwing it open with her weight before she quickly kicked it shut. She knew the door stood as much of a chance as her, but it would buy her precious seconds.

_Think, god damn it, __**think!**_

All Lyra could do instead was let out a pathetic whimper as she felt the incredible sting of her wounds, her blood already staining the carpet beneath her. She groaned audibly as she hauled herself off the floor, the sound of the pounding feet and shouts of the men outside spurring her into action. She quickly slid the lock of the door home and took in her surroundings, realizing she had only managed to trap herself deeper into the suite. She now had several rooms she could lock herself into, but nothing that would offer her a means of escape.

"Fuck," Lyra breathed pathetically as the men outside began banging the door that stood between them, Lyra hobbling deeper into the suite. She ran as best she could for the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind her, throwing herself into the tub. If they shot through the door, which they inevitably would do, they would do the same to the bathroom… at least the tub offered her some means of cover. Lyra breathed heavily and positioned herself as best as she could, her gun trained on the door. She was bleeding out and she knew it.

_I hope it fucking ricochets and get's one of you in the face, you fucks._

A shot rang out followed quickly by a loud bang, the Chairmen's angry voices drawing closer. They had gotten through the first door and Lyra screamed as several rounds punctured the bathroom door, each pinging loudly off the hard metal of the bathtub. Lyra chanced sticking her head up and sprayed the door with her ten _mil_, grinning bloodily in triumph as she heard a pained grunt come from the other side. She lay back down in the tub as more rounds ricocheted off of it, Lyra's vision blurring as shock began to set in.

_Not gonna make it._

**Bang!**

Lyra wasn't sure if she heard the sound of a rifle being reloaded.

"What the fu-" a Chairmen's voice cried before-

**-Bang!**

"How the fuck did he get in her-"

**Bang!**

No, no Lyra _definitely _heard it this time.

"Lyra! Lyra, where the fuck are you? **Lyra!**"

Boone's panicked voice exploded through the suite and Lyra immediately began to cry, the immense relief she felt too much to contain.

"I'm here…!"

Her voice sounded much weaker than she expected and a ragged cough exploded from her lips, her vision blurring further as she noticed the blood that had spattered across the leather of her pants. The destroyed bathroom door burst open, Boone's bulky figure filling the doorway.

"Craig…" She mewed softly.

"God damn it, Lyra," he moaned as he darted for the tub, Lyra absently noting the panic and _fear _that permeated each word. She held her hand up as he approached the tub, her other hand dropping her SMG to the floor. Boone gently took her hand in his and looked Lyra over, his eyes narrowing helplessly as he surveyed her bloodstained body, "Why did you go without me…?"

Lyra opened her mouth to explain but another racking cough came out, a whimper escaping her lips immediately after as her body surged with pain from the cough. Boone shook his head and carefully pulled her out of the tub. Lyra yelped as his hands pressed against her wounds, her body crying out in protest of the movement.

"Can you stand?"

Lyra tried but crashed to the floor, nearly taking Boone with her. She had been shot in the leg, the explosion of pain immediately paralyzing her as soon as she had tried to stand on her own feet.

_When did that happen…_

"You need a doctor," Boone breathed as he swung his rifle onto his back, reaching down to scoop Lyra into his arms.

"B-Benny… the Chip…" Lyra sputtered, fresh tracks of blood flowing from her mouth as she spoke.

"Later," Boone growled as he carried her to the elevator. Lyra felt her head list weightlessly from side to side as her vision began to cut in and out, flashes of Boone's frantic and concerned face deeply ingrained in her mind. As they rode the elevator, his hand shakily tried to wipe the blood from her face, his arms clutching her closer to him. She let out a cry of pain as he did so, Boone apologizing profusely. Lyra vaguely wondered how they were going to leave the casino, before her vision cleared to show them already approaching the doors to the Strip.

"Holy shit –"

"What tha fuck! How the fuck did you get in here with that? What the fuck did you do to her!"

The man at the front desk accosted Boone, Lyra opening one eye to watch the situation unfold. Boone completely ignored the man and strode out the front doors, Lyra hearing footsteps following closely behind. As they came out on the Strip, Lyra clenched her eyes shut from the setting sunlight.

"Hold it buddy, you've got some fuckin' explaining to do!"

"Christ," Boone growled before he turned on the man. He opened his mouth to speak when suddenly the Securitron from the gate wheeled over, its arm outstretched between Boone and the Chairman.

"Halt all hostile actions! Violence is not permitted on the Strip!" The 'Bot turned to the Chairman directly, "Under the order of House himself, you are instructed to return to your business and cease all further interactions."

"Craig…" Lyra moaned as she felt her breath shortening, a panic creeping into her chest as the pain began to numb. Boone immediately turned his gaze down to Lyra and took off from the scene.

"You're gonna be okay. I'll get you to Julie. Hang on," He breathed, his words the last thing Lyra heard as she descended into the darkness.


	14. You would if you had robot ears

**Note: Hello! This one is a little short but I've been pretty swamped these last few days. Sorry for the wait! Week off starts tomorrow so whoo! I'll definitely be getting more writing in as I've FINALLY began to delve deeper into the plotline! Thank you for reading, everyone!**

"_Hm."_

_The jagged hole of rock that imposingly jutted out before Boone was certainly not what he had expected. The Casino's policy regarding weapons was one touch of Vegas Boone was well versed in; he hadn't stood a damn chance in hell of getting in with his rifle at the front door. Thirty minutes prior he had been fighting the urge to pace outside The Tops main entrance, assuming his calm veneer to avoid any suspicion. As his panic had risen with each passing minute Boone had finally strode off, stealthily making his way to the rear of the building. The back door had been firmly sealed, the snipers only other option being a manhole cover in the middle of the back lot. He'd spent enough time in the Wastes to spur him into hefting the heavy disc out of its place._

_What Boone discovered below was not the foul tunnel system he had expected, rather he found himself facing a heavy metallic door, not unlike what he had seen before in Vault 21's own corridors. Allowing himself a brief burst of relief Boone had been further floored when the door swung open on his first try. He'd then wasted twenty damn minutes making his way through the bizarre tunnels, trying each door he came across and looting whatever he could carry from the assortment of lockers that dotted the space. Finally he found himself at his current position, the rocky face clearly not an original piece of the décor. _

_**What are you staring at? Move!**_

_Boone shook his head at his own chiding conscience, stepping through to find himself standing in a tacky tiled room. Crates of explosives and what looked like an elevator door populated the small room, Boone's suspicion of the demolition being _fresh_ cemented in his mind. He approached the rusty elevator doors, hoping to no one in particular that this was a part of the Tops._

_**Rifle.**_

_Right. Boone double timed it back to a few of the lockers, remembering he had noticed some old denim maintenance jackets within. He threw one around himself hastily, adjusting the shoulders and back in hopes it covered the entirety of his rifle. Once he was satisfied, Craig went back to the elevator, pressing the call button and feeling very aware of the beating of his heart._

_**You won't make it. Just like last time.**_

_No. He was going to make it. The discretions between himself and Lyra were quickly disappearing in his mind, a deeply rooted sense of guilt presiding over his thoughts. He was supposed to be protecting her, damn it. He _wanted_ to not care. He _needed _to – shit between he and Lyra was getting out of control. Out of _his_ control. That bothered, Craig. The conflictions were becoming unbearable but try as Boone might; he still had a sense of _duty.

_**And it belongs to her, now.**_

_The sliding of the elevator doors promptly knocked Boone out of his trance, dingy tiled walls now exposed to Boone's vision. As he made his way down the narrow hallway, trying each door he came across, there was only one that successfully opened. _

"_Oh, wowie! And who might you be? Didn't know Benny was going to be having visitors!"_

_**God damn creepy robots are everywher- wait, Benny?**_

_Boone briefly glared at the bizarre Securitron, its screen slapped with a ridiculous smile._

"_You said Benny. Where is he?" Boone growled as he prepared to whip off the denim jacket, hoping his reflexes would be fast enough against the robot._

"_Oh, Benny's upstairs chatting with an old friend! Should be executing his murderous ambush soon! I probably shouldn't have told you that – I guess programming me to be exceptionally helpful was kinda dumb, huh?" the Securitron guffawed cheerfully. Boone had heard all he had needed, however._

"_Where?"_

"_Presidential Suite if my security system is working correctly which I am more than pleased to say is a yes!"_

"_How do I get there? Tell me," Boone demanded, taking an anxious step towards the 'Bot._

"_Well shucks, I'll unlock it for you and you just go right along. Take the elevator to the main floor – it's just down the hall you know! Once you're on the main floor, you can't miss it. It's right by all the tables!"_

"_You've been incredibly helpful," Boone muttered, approaching the only other door besides the elevator and making his way through the suite that was sure to belong to the illustrious Benny. The Securitron left many questions in Craig but that wasn't his priority right now._

_**Guards. Damn it.**_

_Boone instantly fell into his training, relying on his blending ability to nonchalantly walk by the guards, each giving him a wary glance. When Boone realized it was only due to the beret on his head he sped his pace up, maybe pressing the elevators call button a few times more than usual._

"_Come on," He muttered as he waited, watching the lights blink to his floor. When it finally had arrived and deposited him at the main floor, he struggled to resist running his way across the casino._

"_Where…?" He whispered, racking his memory of the Tops, positive he had seen the doors before. As he made his way to the betting tables he stopped cold in his tracks as he watched a group of casino guards hustle into a large set of elevator doors across from him. As the doors closed Boone darted for the door, risking exposure to reach Lyra before she was killed. He slammed his hand against the call button, the minutes it took for it to deposit the first load of men and return an agonizing eternity to the sniper. _

_**I've had just about enough with damn elevators.**_

_Boone felt his lips twitch at the thought, the solid elevator doors spreading open before him. He took a glance around the casino, hoping no one would notice as he darted inside. Gunfire grew in intensity as the elevator climbed closer to its destination, the muffled booms prompting Boone to whip off the jean jacket and get into position. He had to make this count. Close quarters wasn't his strong suite and he silently prayed for the element of surprise to pull him through. As the doors parted he caught a glimpse of one of the guards start to kick down what he assumed was a door. Boone absently noted the bloody guard lying on the floor before him, another's unmoving torso poking out of one end of the bar in the corner. Three men still stood. Boone skirted to his right for a better angle, sighting his first target that stood in the broken door's frame. _

**Bang!**

_Down he went; a clean shot through the back of his skull. Between a heart beat Boone had sighted his second target. _

"_What the fu-"_

**Bang!**

"_How the fuck did he get in her-"_

_The third guard appeared from deeper within the suite, Boone getting a good look at the man's stunned eyes before a .308 round buried itself explosively between them._

**Bang!**

_Last one was down. Boone swung his rifle over his shoulder and charged into the suite._

"_Lyra! Lyra, where the fuck are you? __**Lyra!**__"_

"_I'm here…"_

_Boone leapt over the bodies that littered the floor, his body crashing into the peppered door that stood between him and that pathetic, _weak _voice._

_**God damn it.**_

_She was in the tub. Boone's eyes shakily trailed over the dark stains that had spread across her leather, jagged puncture marks shooting waves of panic through him._

"_Craig…" she whispered softly._

"_God damn it, Lyra," He moaned as he made his way to the tub, his hand instantly clutching her small one as she held it out to him. He swallowed hard as he scanned over her frame, distractedly counting several wounds, "Why did you go without me?" he choked._

_Lyra looked as if she was going to explain but a violent cough erupted instead and shook her body, her face grimacing gruesomely as palpable pain sprawled across her pale features. Boone began to shake as he reached down, deftly plucking Lyra out of the tub as best he could, each cry of pain she emitted cracking what little remained of his composure. _

"_Can you stand?"_

_Lyra dolefully attempted to stand on her feet but toppled down, Boone's body being yanked at an awkward angle as he was both dragged down while simultaneously attempting to support her. _

"_You need a doctor," He muttered as he gingerly scooped her into his arms, briskly making his way for the elevator. He heard her mumble something about Benny and the Chip._

"_Later," he growled, calling the elevator to their floor. As he climbed in with Lyra hanging limply in his arm and the gate closed, Boone looked down at her face. Blood was streaming from the corners of her mouth, her eyes looking sunken and dark. He shakily brought a hand to her face, carefully wiping what he could of the blood away._

_**It's on my hands. Blood on my hands. Never clean. Always ther-**_

"-Craig!"

Boone snapped his eyes up; his head had been hung between his shoulders, his chin nearly touching his chest. Julie Farka's face stared imploringly at his, her eyes confused and panicked.

"Is she okay?" Boone asked as he stood, his hands nervously rubbing down the front of his fatigues.

"There's something I think you need to see."

"I asked if she's okay."

Julie sighed and anxiously scratched the stubble on her scalp, "Craig, I don't know how to explain this. You need to see it."

Boone's mouth pressed into a thin line as he nodded, silently following Julie through the ancient wooden door that lead into her medical facilities. He had been sitting outside the door, unable to think of little else than replaying the last hour of his life repeatedly in his head. As he rounded the separator curtain, he swallowed hard as he stared down at Lyra's unconscious form.

"I've been able to stabilize her… but I'm not so sure that was entirely my doing. Lyra has suffered what would be terminal wounds; a bullet shot at this entry angle would have punctured and collapsed her lung – something I can't… fix," Julie explained as she circled an area around Lyra's ribcage against the sheets thin fabric. Her hand then trailed down to Lyra's leg, "The shot to her thigh would have severed her femoral artery, right about at the superficial femoral."

Boone looked at Julie confusingly.

"Craig, none of these things happened. Flesh has been punctured and blood has flown… but…" Julie trailed off as she peeled up the sheet covering Lyra's ribs, Lyra's tank top bunching in her hand and exposing thick white gauze. Julie carefully peeled back the gauze and leaned over to reach for a pair of tweezers resting on a medical cart beside her. She slowly peeled back Lyra's flesh, Boone momentarily frustrated she had not applied any stitches before he noticed what glistened beneath.

"What the fuck…" Boone whispered as he stepped closer and knelt at Lyra's side, pulling off his glasses as he got a closer look.

_Metal?_

Craig shook his head slowly and looked back up at Julie, a helpless frown gracing her normally bright face, "As I said; I've never seen something like this before. At least not on a human. It's intricate cybernetics, Craig. There's only one other… creature I have come across in the wastes that is a fully functioning cross between mechanical and biological components. Until now I had never come across it in a human before, though."

Boone gaped at Julie, her words barely registering in his mind.

"I don't understand?"

"I've heard whispers of beings called Androids being produced in the Common Wealth. Humans that are made from machines. It's the first thing I thought of as I discovered what lay beneath her wounds."

"She's an android?"

"Not entirely. I said she's a cross between biological and mechanical components. I can't know for sure until I run some tests, but I do not believe all of her bioorganic features are synthesized. Androids are not only completely mechanical; their exteriors are wholly synthesized tissue. The wounds she sustained in her left gastrocnemius muscle are _very _real and I found no metal plating within her flesh there," Julie brought her fingers to her chin, creating a tent, "There's a man here in Freeside. He leads the gang called The Kings. He has a dog that shares striking similarities thus far to Lyra's unique features. Forty five percent of his body is organic tissue; the rest is an incredibly tough steel alloy that expertly protects his delicate inner components. I have a suspicion Lyra's could be the same."

"I don't believe this," Boone muttered as he brought a shaky hand to his chin, covering it and part of his mouth as he crossed his other arm over his chest, "I didn't think something like this was possible."

Julie shrugged slowly, "I as a rule don't presume anything out here. This is surprising, but from what I have heard and witnessed myself, not completely uncommon. The real question rests in the "Four W's"."

Julie shook her head at Boone's perplexed glare and motioned towards a couple of chairs she had tucked in the corner, the two of them taking a seat.

"_Whoever_ did this work possesses skills that are a serious rarity in this day and age - locating that particular individual being incredibly difficult. _Whatever _Lyra precisely is I won't be able to effectively determine without damn near taking her apart. I have limited recourses at my disposal to determine exactly _when _this procedure was done. Finally, _why_ someone would do this has too many possibilities to even entertain at the moment."

Boone slid a hand over his face, reaching up to push off his beret as he rubbed the top of his head repeatedly.

"Does she know?" he asked, his gaze perpetually glued to the floor. Julie sadly gazed at Boone, her arms crossing over her chest.

"I doubt it."

"Do we tell her?"

Julie sighed, "I don't know. Lyra's mind is fragile as it is, I'm not sure if now would be an appropriate time. I think she does need to know, but she needs rest first. There are still several wounds on her body that inflicted a considerable amount of damage to her physiology. She'll need rehabilitation for her leg, which is a guarantee. Regarding her metallic features; while the bullets did not puncture whatever metal plating she has, I'm sure the impact was less than delicate. I wouldn't doubt she would still feel soreness and/or stiffness in those areas."

Boone held a fist to his hand and remained silent as his eyes bore into Lyra's unmoving form. He stood from his seat, one large hand grasping its backing as he walked over to beside where she lay. He placed the chair beside her bed and clasped his hands in his lap, silently staring at her. Julie swallowed slowly and rose from her seat, opting to stand a foot or so away from the afflicted man.

"When I feel it's time, I can tell her," she offered.

Boone slowly shook his head, "No. You let me know. I'll do it."

"If that's what you want."

"When is she going to wake up?"

"Hard to say, she's been out for several hours now, with the help of my anesthetic. I would say by morning she should be awake, if not groggy," Julie stepped behind Boone's chair and tentatively placed a hand on his shoulder, "She's safe here, Craig. I'll take good care of her. Go get something to eat and some rest."

"I'll wait."

Julie bit her lip and nodded, Boone's eyes never leaving Lyra's bruised face. She slowly backed her way to the door, catching the man slowly grasping Lyra's hand in his as she made her way back out into the courtyard. She needed to contact The King and get another look at his peculiar hound, Julie praying she could find some evidence that would hopefully point the two troubled souls in the right direction.


	15. Wakey wakey

_**Authors note: Not entirely sure if I will even still have readers for this story but I have not forgotten it. Alas, life and other commitments took over. I will not be able to update as frequently as I would like due to a lack of internet connection but I will be working on this story offline and will upload chapters ASAP. If the flow of the story seems awkward in comparison to previous chapters please, patience! It has… been a while. **_

_**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Bethesda… the character of Lyra is a machination of my own design. This is all just in good fun, no profit. **_

_****_

Can you whisper…

_ Blurry eyes consumed the world around them like a starved animal as darkness was lifted. Shapes and sounds of light and confusion bombarded the receptive sensory functions._

_Suddenly; Data._

_LCD screen; heart monitor; fluorescent lighting. _

_Cold, metal table… soft sheets._

_Self. _

_**Where **was **It**?_

_The sentience slowly turned its head, absently noting the string of functions and commands self-processed to do so. It deemed the acknowledgment unnecessary and seamlessly rerouted programming commands to cease all notifications of that particular function and ones containing similar code. _

_Noises._

Can you whisper…

_Two were…whispering; the act of speaking softly… vocal chords; little to no vibration. _

_It focused on the two entities and prompted another command._

Listen.

"_It has been a considerable amount of time and mine is particularly precious."_

"_I'm well aware House. We both know what is to come. If you would like to avoid neural degeneration however, I have to be sure. If not, eventual psychosis will occur."_

"_I have what is necessary. I am **out **of time Mobius; she must come and it must be now. I have taken the necessary measures you suggested and I am confident."_

She._ It was female._

"_She" watched as the man in a white lab coat crossed his arms defensively over his chest. The one identified as "Mobius". The information was processed and stored._

"_Very well House. I have included in her dossier the "Hide and Seek" activation code – this will initiate her Reclamation protocol encoding. Above all else I stand most by this piece of my work – she will function above and beyond your expectations if activated." _

"_Noted. You have my thanks Mobius."_

"_Mobius" nodded his head, "I will be forward House; should the worst outcomes necessitate this particular use, I cannot accurately predict what impact a post-apocalyptic environment will have on her. As per your request, both patients only received titanium alloy plating around vital centers of mass and arteries. Though it is the strongest I have synthesized yet, the bio-organic material can still potentially be damaged. If beyond self-replicating abilities, it **will** require total re-synthesizing and possible organic replacement. This applies to B955883 as well. This is within your realm of ability?"_

"_House's" stony façade remained. _

"_As I have said Mobius, your concern is unnecessary. I have considered all possibilities; my coming to you in the first place makes this clear. She will prevail and that is all that matters. Whether or not I must do what is necessary, she will be alive. And she will be safe."_

"_Mobius" approached a console to his left and began typing in commands. "She's" vision trailed over the man known as "House". Before her recognition functions could initiate her world went dark and "She" knew no more._

__

Twelve weeks. Twelve weeks Boone waited for Lyra to wake. Contrary to Julie's optimistic predictions, Lyra had not exited her coma within a few days. Craig had initially pressured Julie into taking measures into her own hands, his impatience hard to contain, though Julie's hesitance was staunchly in line with her medical oath. Regardless, none of Julie's eventual efforts came to fruition and Boone resigned. A game of patience began.

In the weeks that followed Julie had nigh on given up discovering the inner workings of Lyra's unique body. She eventually decided to avoid the risk of further damage by not tinkering with that which she did not understand, observing as Lyra's tissue essentially repaired itself. This had disappointed Craig but he could respect her resolute decision making. If Lyra ever woke, it was decided their primary concern would be to break the news as gently as possible. Julie and Craig both hoped the knowledge would prompt something in Lyra's battered psyche and open some doors that were currently closed to all.

The dog barked at his side and disrupted Craig's musings.

"Yeah, I'm getting hungry, too."

Boone reached down and absent-mindedly rubbed behind Rex's furry ear. As the weeks had droned on, the dog's company had been an unexpected but eventually welcomed addition to Craig's daily routine. He didn't know much about it beyond a wary recognition of Caesar's bull stamped onto its flank and it's striking similarities to Lyra's... quirks. The creature was friendly enough… for being what it was. An interesting behavior of note was its dislike of hats… something that had taken Julie - and especially - Beatrix and Craig a while to deduce, their questions eventually answered by The King himself. Eventually the dog must have accepted they were not a threat. He just felt bad for the capped roamers unlucky enough to come across the mutt upon entering The Fort.

After Julie's bizarre and grisly discovery under Lyra's flesh, she and Boone had immediately spent the following day contacting the gang known as The King's. After completing a slew of time-consuming favours, Boone found himself within the company of The King him very self. Boone's efforts allowed him to convince The King to part with the strange Cyborg mutt and Julie immediately detailed what she had diagnosed previously for the notorious gang's leader. Eventually he would seek what was necessary to set the canine right, The King's warning and plea not forgotten.

_Not yet._

Craig puffed up his cheeks and let out a long sigh as he headed towards Arcade's tent, deep in thought. Julie and he couldn't figure out shit, even with the help of the blonde, ex-Enclave scientist. Rex was proving to be just as much an enigma as Lyra and Craig couldn't shake the uncertainty he felt from the increasingly overwhelming situation. Being forced to remain in The Fort amongst doctors like Julie had a profound, if not still unsettling, effect on Boone. As the time had droned by, Craig found it increasingly difficult to disregard Julie's helpful but persistent probing, finally agreeing one afternoon to sit down with her. For the first time in years, Boone had actually _talked_ and after more hours than Craig cared to remember, Julie had been firm in her diagnosis…

_"Craig, you're a textbook case of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. This is common amongst your peers in the NCR, let alone the Mojave Wasteland itself. What matters though is I can help. Give me some of your time and knock back some of that pride and we can get you through this."_

The revelation had been another bitter pill for Boone to swallow down, his initial reaction resulting in nearly a week of isolation from those in the fort.

_Detachment… or was it Disassociation? Can't remember what Julie called it…_

In the end Julie's persistence had won out and Craig found himself dedicating the time to introspection and therapy, succumbing to Julie's pleas to help. It… had been rough, but Craig had more clarity to his thought processes he had not been privy to for longer than he cared to acknowledge. Boone knew where the major contribution to his pieces of success lay; kicking the addictions he had held privately for so long was a welcome change. The old wounds still remained and it was an effort to control his cognitive behavior, _as Julie called it_, but Craig had found himself slowly coming to terms with _some_ of his personal issues.

He sighed one more time and scratched at the stubble behind his head. When Lyra woke up he knew it would be a… tiresome process to explain.

_If she even wakes up I wouldn't know where to begin._

_ Enough._

Craig slowed his pace to a crawl and quietly popped his head through Arcade's tent door flap.

"Arcade! Breakfast?"

The scientist jumped in his seating position.

"Must you _insist_ on doing that? I'm very engrossed in work at the moment and could do without the grammatical mistakes on my thesis."

"Get your panties out of a knot and come eat. You'll find yourself less pissy," Boone quipped, holding the flap back and open for Arcade so he could walk through.

"Your charming and warm personality never fails to comfort; Boone," Arcade sassed as he began walking with Craig and Rex, his hand reaching down to awkwardly pat Rex's skull-dome when the dog sought attention. The two approached the rows of picnic tables in the middle of the yard, moving to position in the long line of those waiting for the same meal. As they reached the front, Julie smiled warmly at them.

"Good morning boys."

Craig nodded briefly and held out his plate, Arcade offering a polite "good morning" to Julie in return. Boone took a step and stood beside Julie as he started picking at his food.

"Anything?"

Julie sighed and spared a sad smile Boone's way as she served a refugee, "I am sorry Craig, but no. I do not think today will be the day."

_Christ._

"Fair enough," The sniper whispered and made his way to where Arcade sat, plopping onto the bench and flicking some scraps down to Rex. He'd never seen the dog take a dump but Rex ate up what was given quick enough.

"So… has Julie made any progress?" Arcade tentatively asked, well-versed in the stoic snipers visage.

"No."

"Unsurprising; Lyra is certainly unique. I do not understand why the two of you refuse to investigate her inner components. Much could potentially be deduced."

They'd had this argument before. Over the course of twelve weeks what had been a touchy subject initially was now little more than an on-going banter between the two men.

"Are you willing to be broken, too, Arcade? Because I could _deduce _a fair bit from your insides as well."

Arcade scoffed and looked affronted, "Oh spare me. At worst you'd merely find the cause of my insufferable indigestion. I'm tempted to take you up on that offer."

"Just making sure," Boone amicably growled.

"Indeed," Arcade good-naturedly noted and the two ate in comfortable silence in the early morning light. Already the heat was near unbearable and Craig began formulating a course of action for the day. As he listed the tasks he had lined up, he watched as Julie meandered over to her tower. First on the list; go see Lyra. He hastily shoveled the rest of his spam and beans into his mouth before tossing the rest to Rex and heading for Julie's laboratory. Just as he reached for the door it burst open, painfully clocking him in the face.

"God damn it!" he hissed as he reached up to tenderly feel the bridge of his nose and felt a warm liquid make its way over his lips.

"Craig! I-I'm so sorry… Jesus, get in here!" Julie exclaimed, hurriedly ushering Craig into her facility, Boone feeling practically dragged. As they made their way over to where Lyra was, Bone tilted his head back in an effort to stem the tide of blood. As he lowered his head in anticipation of Julie's attention, he gaped.

"Well. Colour me pink Boone. I'm flattered you're that _excited_ to see me."

_She's awake._

Boone didn't think. He just did. He rushed to Lyra's sitting figure but awkwardly hesitated when his arms twitched naturally to engulf her. He breathed shakily and opted instead to sink into the chair beside her, his eyes darkening remorsefully when he looked her over, his hand slowly covering his mouth.

Lyra smiled warmly and took the initiative, reaching over to give Craig's hand a small squeeze before reaching up to habitually twiddle the tips of her hair.

"Long time no see, handsome."

"Yeah."

"Lyra, how are you feeling?"

Julie approached the bed, clipboard in hand and ready to take notes. Lyra smiled and reached up to hug the Mohawk-rockin' lady, a smile spreading across both women's faces as they embraced. Julie straightened up and cleared her throat.

"To answer your question, I feel fine Julie. I remember going into the Tops, Benny… all of it."

"What's your last most recent memory?"

Lyra blushed, not wanting to embarrass Boone so she opted to be as unspecific as possible.

"An elevator… Boone," she answered.

"Craig does that sound about accurate to her last moment of consciousness?"

Boone lifted his chin from his chest and slowly nodded, "Yeah. Yeah that sounds about right."

Julie nodded and scribbled onto her clipboard, "Okay, so memory seems good. For the most part," she added before blushing awkwardly.

"Yeah, still no dice in that department Doc."

"Unfortunate, to be honest I had hoped the trauma would activat-I mean, jolt these repressed and fractured memories of yours."

Lyra cocked an eyebrow, "Something you're not telling me?"

Julie looked uncertainly over to Boone whose stony visage was still in place, the only give away of his emotions being his eyes. He shot her a quick glance, the message received instantly.

"I still have to run some tests Lyra. At this point in time it is not an immediate concern. Give me a few days and some of your time, and we can discuss my findings."

Lyra nodded slowly, deciding it wasn't worth arguing. She'd certainly been through this before. Déjà vu was a bitch.

"In the interim… rest. And lots of it," Julie ordered as she made her way to the sink and grabbed her examination tools, "Do you think you can stand? If possible, I would like to perform a physical."

"I can try," Lyra offered, slowly pulling back the blankets to swing her legs over the side of the bed. The action itself was easy enough to accomplish, if not stiff. As she slid forward and felt the cold floor pressed to the underside of her feet, she felt a large but gentle hand steady her arm. She turned and smiled appreciatively at Boone and began to stand, finding herself only leaning into Craig's support briefly before she gained her balance. After a few minutes of walking at different paces, Boone eventually let go and Julie nodded, pleased.

"Incredible. Craig, if you would be so kind and give us some privacy, I would like to go forward with a physical. As for that nose of yours, rinse the blood off and talk to Beatrix about a Bhramin steak. It doesn't look broken."

Lyra smiled to herself as she watched an obvious blush splotch itself across Craig's cheeks and she turned back to Julie once he'd left.

"Alright Doc, get pokin' and proddin'."

"Amazing. I had my doubts. Hopefully Julie and indeed Lyra herself will allow me an opportunity to observe."

Something inside Craig twisted defensively (_jealously?_) at Arcade's hopes, "No. Too many people harassing her will cause more suspicion. You shouldn't even know. She doesn't. So drop it."

Arcade rolled his eyes petulantly, "Oh I see – get what you want out of my skills when it's convenient for you but cut me high and dry at the most critical point. Do you understand exactly what particular type of torture you're inflicting on a Scientist here?"

"I don't rightly care, and you know why Gannon? Because it's_ convenient_ for me," Boone retaliated as he finished up organizing the tent he and Lyra would now share. As he left and made his way to Beatrix to acquire another mattress, Arcade followed closely on his heels.

"Ass. Fine; if I do not mention her extraordinary cybernetic abilities, will your jealous self allow _at least_ an introduction?"

"Fine," Craig paused and pointed an accusing finger at Arcade, "But I'm not jealous."

Arcade's eyebrows lifted, "Truly?"

Boone growled and turned to nod his head at Beatrix, "Need another mattress B. Can you spare one?"

"For you sugar shot, anything. I'll have it placed right quick for ya," the ghoul rasped in response.

"Thanks."

Arcade placed a halting hand on Boone's bicep, "Rex is inexplicably losing his proverbial shit," he observed, pointing to where the Dog was excitedly barking and jumping at the entrance to the tower clinic. Boone furrowed his eyebrows and marched over to Rex, Arcade having to skip in his step to keep up.

Rex immediately turned to face the men, imploringly bobbing his head at them as he whined towards the door.

_Now that's just… hm._

Boone knocked on the clinic, not wanting to intrude but wanting to alert Julie. After a few seconds the door cracked open and the front tips of Julie's Mohawk almost comically poked out.

"Jeepers, who stuck a bloat fly hive up Rex's bum today?" Julie muttered, poking her head out further to look at Rex, "You're interrupting me. Enough. I don't have any food in here."

Rex whined desperately.

Boone shrugged at Julie and Arcade, feeling as perplexed and mildly irritated as they did. Suddenly Lyra's head poked out from behind the door, just beside Julie's waist. Immediately she gasped in awe and delight and threw the door open, Julie awkwardly having to catch herself on the frame to avoid stumbling.

"Holy shit, look at this dog!" Lyra cried as she crouched in front of it. She stifled a laugh as Rex threw his paws over her shoulders, his tongue avidly drenching her face as his tail wagged madly. None of the others had ever seen this much energy from the dog, the assumption he was ill usually more than evident. Lyra patted the side of his face, her other hand tracing the ridges and grooves of his robotic flank.

"Intriguing," Arcade noted aloud, Boone and Julie silently agreeing as they watched the obvious and slightly surprising affection the dog bestowed upon Lyra. Arcade locked eyes with Julie, Boone oblivious to their unspoken agreement as he took in the sight of Lyra, a memory that felt older than it was returning.

_"You've got good taste in friends, ."_

"Where'd you get the Battle Dog?" Lyra inquired, looking expectantly from face to face.

"A friend," Boone offered.

"He's suffering neurological degeneration unfortunately. There is a doctor I know of deep in the mountains northeast of here who could potentially help but Craig had wanted to wait until you… well, woke up," Julie explained.

"Aw, who's a sick boy?" Lyra crooned childishly, pressing the tip of her nose to his, "You're just like me!"

Boone choked on something that didn't exist in his throat.

"Well, you're not _actually _ill Lyra, as far as I can tell," Julie recovered quickly.

Rex barked happily as Lyra rolled back onto her heels and stood up, tilting her head in appreciation as she inspected the dog, "So, which one of you actually owns him now?"

Boone shrugged, "He has proven… a good companion."

"That so? Do we know how to get to this mountain man doctor?"

"Yes."

"I vote we do that," Lyra chirped in a sure but light tone as she daftly wagged her tongue back at Rex's own.

Julie stepped towards Lyra and placed a hand on her back, "Um, Lyra, if I may as a doctor, I suggest you remain for at least a week of rest, recovery and rehabilitation. It would make me feel a lot better about you going."

Lyra nodded, "Sure, provided you think he'll make it, I can't argue the logic. Though I think I've had _ample_ in the rest department."

"Excellent. Why don't you go and get something to eat with Craig," Julie turned to Arcade, "Would you join me in my office? There are some findings from another patient I'd actually like your opinion on…"

Arcade complied and held out a hand to Lyra as he passed her, "Seeing as Big Boy here has a problem with introductions, and for that matter keeping his word, I'm Arcade."

Lyra barked out a laugh and shook the man's extended hand firmly, "Bang on, Arcade. I like you."

Arcade blushed and muttered incoherently, moving to follow after Julie, Lyra turning to Boone expectantly as she felt Rex practically attach himself to her calf. An awkward pause fell upon the two reunited companions and Lyra reached forward, slowly hooking her finger on Boone's waist band.

"I'm sorry."

"Me too."

"Miss me?" Lyra asked shyly as she pulled her hand away from Boone and he led her towards their tent.

_More than I'm half-willing to admit…_

"Yes," Boone confessed, fighting the waves of embarrassment and shame that were assaulting his thoughts. Now that the moment he had so desperately anticipated was here, Craig found himself… stuck. He reached and opened the flap for the tent to let Lyra in, sitting himself down in the chair opposite her at the small table within. The brightness that had been on her face moments ago darkened and she raised sad, pale green eyes to his gaze.

"Thank you… for coming for me. Again. Sometimes it's hard to listen to more than your pride…" She whispered as a hand gripped the opposite arm protectively. She immediately let out a breath, her bangs floating up briefly as she awkwardly looked around the tent, "Cozy. It doesn't come near Lucky 38 though that's for su-"

_Damn it woman._

"I care about you."

Lyra did a double take, the sudden and unexpected admission from Boone clearly having an instant effect. Craig watched as a sarcastic smirk spread across her face, the woman clearly opting to brush it off.

"That much I can tell… you stormed a Casino for me; can't get much more chivalric than that."

"No. It's… more," Boone rasped in a desperately quiet voice, doing his best to avoid Lyra's intent pale green gaze. He sighed and clasped his calloused hands together, licking his lips nervously as he carefully chose his next words, "What happened… before. It… wasn't a mistake."

_Twelve weeks… twelve weeks of work… of __**agony**__… _

_Was it really anything **new**, Craig?_

Boone shook the admonishing thought from his mind and chanced a quick glance at Lyra's face, the shock evident in her features. His gut clenched.

"I-I don't know… what to say. The truth is I can't lie and say something wasn't there for me, but… Craig we're playing a dangerous game. There's so much that remains to be seen… I've only just woken up, I need to find Benny and speak to House," Lyra's eyes grew glossy, "And Carla…? I just… I can't- I don't…"

Boone silenced Lyra's fumbling by reaching over and gently pulling her jaw to his face, sighing breathily into the kiss as he pressed his lips to hers and closed his eyes, every fiber of his being fighting the onslaught of confusing thoughts and emotions that followed. He eventually pulled back, the kiss chaste in comparison to their previous… attempts. He pressed his forehead to Lyra's as the woman recovered from her surprise.

"I think… I'm ready to go to Bitter Spring's."

Lyra pulled back abruptly, "You're not serious."

"I am. It's time… I've been thinking. A lot," Craig sighed and stood from his seat, pacing in front of Lyra, "I don't know what's coming to me Lyra but I'm done being a fool; I need you and… you need me and I want us to meet it together. I'm not finding another woman I care about riddled with bullets again."

Lyra softened and mutely nodded in agreement as the large man paced back and forth before her. Craig knew he was walking into unchartered territory… but damn it if he was going to let the weeks of work and progress go to waste at the most critical moment. There was no way for the stoic sniper to know exactly what Lyra felt and while her clear hesitancy did little to comfort Boone, he also accepted that his own past actions and history were likely shaping whatever doubts the enigma of a woman harbored.

In a small voice she broke the tension-filled silence, "Boone… are you absolutely sure about this?"

Craig nodded assuredly, "Yes. Being here… you've been gone twelve weeks Lyra. Twelve weeks I've had… good people helping me. I've started… coming to terms with most of my… issues," He sent her a small smile, "Julie she ah… Fixed me up, got some uh… therapy sessions in. You know."

_Not that I particularly _want _you to._

Lyra nodded in understanding as Craig awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck; she was clearly relieved he had overcome his substance abuse.

"Can we agree that for now… slow?" Lyra offered as she stood and slid a small hand slowly up Craig's left arm. He felt his skin goose bump under her touch and he shivered as he nodded, his own arm sliding to hook around her waist. He pulled her into a close hug, the action more tender than any he had done in many, many years. Lyra sighed into his embrace and buried her face into the crook of his neck, nuzzling her nose into the bristly flesh. Hesitantly the two finally parted and Lyra reached down and gave his hand a squeeze.

"So, where's breakfast?"

Craig smirked and perked his eyebrows, gesturing towards the entrance of the tent.

_Forgive me Carla… but I just can't help thinking you'd… like her._


	16. Fetch

_**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but Lyra's retardacity and am doing this strictly for fun. P.S I seriously wrote this whole chapter while listening to a Renholder remix of All Night Doctor's by Bush. It has become my song for Lyra and Craig :3**_

"Go **get it!**"

Lyra laughed as she watched Rex's robotic legs pump furiously after the stick she whipped far into the open Mojave. After a week remaining within The Fort and close to the clinic, Julie had eventually obliged and permitted Lyra to make a needed trip to Gun Runners.

_Because sitting on my ass day in and day out was _much_ more appealing._

Lyra smirked bemusedly at the thought and looked behind her at the sound of Rex's fast approaching paws, the combination of clicking and padding amusing. It was a clear but warm day and when Lyra heard a supply run needed to be made to the illustrious Gun Company, she had immediately offered. Initially Julie had protested.

_Nothing a little sass couldn't fix._

It was true. Lyra had vehemently made her case, cocking an eyebrow petulantly at Julie when she suggested Lyra still needed rest. In the end Lyra had won out under the compromise Rex go with her. Boone had been occupied, out running his own errands to bolster The Fort. Lyra suspected he'd be grumpy over the fact she left somewhere without him, but she knew Gun Runners was close.

Rex barked at Lyra's side.

"Yup, I see it," she muttered absently as they approached the shack.

"Greetings and welcome sir or madam," the sprightly tone of the robot behind the Plexiglas buzzed.

Lyra pushed a list under the slot, "Hi – got a list of ammunition and miscellaneous supplies I'm looking for. Whatever you can provide, I'll have the Caps to give in turn."

"Processing. Please take a number."

Lyra nodded and ripped a small piece of paper off the roll, finding it curious as she was the only customer present. She shrugged and plopped down on the Mojave's warm earth and whistled at Rex who was exploring some ruins nearby. The pup let out a low "whoof" and sauntered over as Lyra lit a cigarette. She and the strange beast absently watched the plumes of smoke curl around her as she perused her memories of the last few days; Boone's confession being at the top of the list.

_Yeah how about that?_

Lyra truthfully did not know where to begin. She had acquiesced to try for Boone, touched by his own adamant intentions but frankly remained in a state of shock. The two were certainly taking it slow, their affections chaste, subtle and usually kept private for which Lyra was admittedly okay with. Amongst the tangle of complications one thing was obviously shared between both; an unmistakable bond that even in its early stages, was prevailing. Lyra could appreciate that for what it was… for now.

"You don't seem to mind him at least," Lyra quipped as she looked down at Rex lying at her side. The dog lifted its bizarre looking head and let out an excited bark, Lyra lowering herself to nuzzle her face into his fur.

_Second best present to wake up to._

Over the span of a few days the canine had rarely left her side, Boone even sardonically teasing her for robbing him of his companion. Lyra was just as surprised as the others seemed but she wasn't about to look a gift battle hound in the mouth so to speak. Rex was impressive, without a doubt, but she had also caught onto the odd behavioral quirks that were clearly caused by an illness. As soon as Julie was willing to release Lyra from her clutches, Boone had already agreed to make the trek with her, Arcade also expressing an interest in the endeavor.

_Gonna be quite the little tea party._

"Soon buddy. We'll get you up to that doctor and you'll be all better. Yeah, who's a handsome boy, hm?" She crooned, rubbing the scruff under Rex's neck.

"Number 30821; ready"

Lyra jumped up and made her way to the counter. A satchel had been deposited through the trading box, "How much?"

"One thousand, forty-nine caps please and thank you ma'am."

After separating her cap pouches and pulling what was needed from each, Lyra pushed the sum of Caps under the slot and nodded in thanks. She reached down and threw the satchel over her shoulder.

"Way ya go," she commanded at Rex, the dog taking off at a sprint to scout the path ahead of them. Lyra certainly hadn't come unarmed; her old nine _em_ and a newly acquired one tucked into a thigh holster each. She and Boone had been practicing her quick draw in their spare time over the last few days, Lyra confident she could drop the pack and draw in an instant if necessary. So far, luck had been on her side; she had only a ten minute walk back to the gates of Freeside and found herself yanking them open soon enough.

A smarmy voice greeted her.

"Looks like you're travellin' with some… valuable goods there lady. I'm thinkin' you may be needin' yourself a body guar-"

Lyra cut the man off in an instant as she deftly whipped her gun from her holster and pressed it firmly to the man's forehead, "No thanks, I've got one built in. Find someone else to scam."

_Still got it._

Rex growled menacingly at her side.

"Hey, hey, take it easy, yeah? Just offerin', just offerin'," The man clad in dented metal armor visibly shook, Lyra furrowing her brows in disgust as it dawned on her the man had wet himself.

"Christ, find another line of work buddy," She scoffed as she holstered her weapon again and sauntered over to The Fort's entrance. She smiled warmly at Beatrix and made her way to Julie's tower, wanting to get a literal load off her shoulders. Upon entering, Julie looked up from her notes, her eyes widening approvingly as she rose to meet Lyra.

"Excellent. This will go a long way. Can you take the munitions and weapon components to Beatrix please? Then, I'd like you to return. It's time we discuss my findings thus far," her tone was cold and professional.

Lyra gulped; a little taken aback by her attitude but realized it was strictly Julie going full-blown doctor mode, "No worries Julie."

"Thanks."

Lyra nodded and made her way out to the yard.

"Beatrix, I come with presents!" Lyra cried amusingly as she walked out of the tower's door, striding to where the cowghoul was lounging with one dusty boot up on the sandbags.

"Now that there present couldn't be them munitions and rifle stock I've been gettin' wet for could they?"

"Ha! Enjoy being _sated_ for I bear your release," Lyra laughed, dropping the satchel beside the ghoul. Beatrix nodded appreciatively and pulled out a rifle stock that had fine carvings in the wood and metal.

"Oh come to me baby and lets' get you home," She purred, her appreciation for fine weapon crafting clear.

Lyra perked an eyebrow, "You order that custom?"

"Sure did."

"Nice. Well, enjoy… Julie's gon-"

"Where the hell have you been?"

_Hooray!_

Lyra whipped around and pursed her lips in a mockingly contemptuous pout at Boone's fast approaching figure, "Nowhere and everywhere at once. Would you like specifics? I wasn't under the impression I _reported_ to you."

"Well, now we can avoid some confusion," Boone growled sarcastically, crossing his arms over his broad chest, "Christ Lyra, you gave me a heart attack."

"Oh, stop it. I wasn't gone more than a half hour, you were off on one of your own yahoo's and look, no holes!" She flung her arms out and spun on the spot. Craig planted his forehead into his palm, sighing exasperatedly but letting go of his initial irritation.

"Not funny."

"Oh it is, you grump," Lyra's shoulders slumped in playful defeat and she winked at Boone, "I just ran out to Gun Runners okay? Not far, I had Rexie and Julie was aware. Next time I'll tell you myself. Fair?"

Craig grinned and quickly scanned around them. Lyra assumed he felt assured they were mostly alone and soon his thick arms were encircling her waist. His scent pleasingly filled her nose and she sighed happily into him, welcoming the comfort he instilled.

_I'm allowed a little here and there, right?_

Craig silently pulled away and gave a gentle tug on a chunk of Lyra's tresses, "Fair. So how'd it go?" He asked as he and Lyra began walking back towards the tower, she paused briefly to wave at Arcade who was briskly making was way from the tower and back to his tent. He didn't notice and Lyra plopped her hand back at her side.

"Just dandy. I didn't have to kill anything but some time."

"Good. Would you… like me to give you and Julie some privacy?" Craig hesitantly offered as they came to a stop at the towers door. Lyra visibly chewed on her inner cheek.

_It _could _potentially be something I wouldn't exactly… _want _him to know._

"Please. I… don't even know what she has to say."

"I understand. In that case, I'm accompanying Gannon to the Silver Rush. Best to void any… _risks_. I will likely be back when you are wrapping up."

Lyra suddenly reached out as Boone turned to leave and she gave his calloused hand a solid squeeze.

"We can talk. After. Be careful," she pleaded, her eyes scanning his behind the shades she had provided him what felt like ages ago. Craig nodded and returned her squeeze before pulling away and making his way over to Arcade's tent. Lyra took a deep breath and opened the tower's door.

"Remind me again why we even _bother_ trying to negotiate with those insufferable twats?"

Arcade was griping to Boone as they made their way through the destroyed streets of Freeside, their offer near immediately refused by the twisted siblings. Craig wasn't surprised; the Van Graff's didn't rely on anyone but themselves and their Caps. Everything and everyone else was expendable.

_How else would they have succeeded at sweeping an entire Casino from right under bloody feet?_

"Julie's going to be disappointed."

"You think? I honestly could not have been more diplomatic. I mean, damn it, I'm a Scientist not a politician!" Arcade exclaimed, slamming his fist into his palm. Boone rolled his eyes at the poncy but well-intentioned man.

"It's okay Gannon; you'll be alone with your books soon and all of this will just be a distant, awkward memory of your social incompetence."

"Craig, you're an insufferable jack ass who's got as much tact as a Brahmin. I could also take a stab at your cognitive ineptitude if you'd like?"

Craig brought a hand to his chin, "I could concede, for the sake of derailing your argument."

Arcade brought a hand to his chest in mock astonishment, "To what end, miss you make an ass of yourself further? Perish the thought."

"Fuck you Arcade."

"Ass."

The two men grinned as they walked side by side, comfortably making their way back to The Fort, Boone's smirk lessening as they drew closer. Since the Van Graff's had turned down Julie's proposal, he and Arcade were back earlier than he anticipated.

_Lookin' forward to _this.

Arcade said a brisk goodbye and immediately headed for his tent, Boone briefly checking his own and finding Lyra was not within. He was just about to go grab a chair to sit outside Julie's clinic but stopped as he found Lyra, Julie and Beatrix happily snacking on some lunch in the yard.

_Hm._

Craig approached the table, Beatrix's raspy yet loud laugh ringing out as she gestured excitedly at Lyra.

"God girl back in my day it was more than horses I was ranglin'! Too bad none of them critters made it, they were somethin' else," Beatrix mused absently then cocked her head at Boone as he hesitantly sat at the table across from Lyra, "Good news is some of the _other_ good rides survived. Nice job ropin' yourself a stallion, Lyra."

Both Lyra and Craig felt their cheeks burn, as of yet uncomfortable with public notice of their _relationship._

"Christ B," Craig muttered as he rubbed his hands over his eyes. He heard Lyra stifle a soft giggle and peered at her through his fingers, distinctly noting her downcast gaze.

"Now ya'll listen tight, I've been on this ragged earth for nearly two hundred years. I know a good man when I see one," Beatrix offered as she adjusted her cowboy hat and removed herself from the picnic table, "Breaks over. I'll catch you ladies later now. Lyra, you come to old B anytime if you're fixin' for some… advice."

Boone grimaced at the involuntary mental image as his mind interpreted the ghouls offer.

Lyra snorted but smiled warmly at the ghoul as she left then rested her elbows on the table, her chin planted on the top of her hands. The three of them sat in silence until Julie cleared her throat and also moved to remove herself.

"So, tomorrow morning, okay Lya?"

"Sure thing Julie," she reached out and gave the doctor's arm a soft squeeze, "And… thank you. I have a lot to think about now."

"Just… don't hesitate. With anything," Julie smiled back and winked at Boone before turning and walking further into the yard. Lyra let out a long sigh and turned to Boone.

"I know that _you_ know," she stated simply.

_You really wanna have this conversation _here_?_

"Yeah."

"How come you didn't want to tell me?"

Craig sighed as he tented his fingers, bringing the tips to his lips as he contemplated his answer.

"I… couldn't."

"That's it?" Lyra's eyes were intently fixated on the man across from her, "You _couldn't_ tell me I'm _more_ of a freak than I already feared?"

"You're not a freak Lyra."

"And the alternative is any better?" she softly protested, "Even Julie has no fucking clue. One second she's making it sound I'm some… android. Next she's insisting I'm _human_; insisting, Craig. A doctor had to _**insist**_ I was human."

"You are."

Boone flinched as he saw something visibly snap behind Lyra's eyes.

"Cut the stoic crap. Jesus, I _need_ you Boone; please offer me more than this. I _**need**_ those emotions of yours because I'm__not so sure of _**mine**_ at the moment."

Boone felt a panic spread through him and he took a deep breath before slowly exhaling, "What do you want me to say Lyra?"

"Anything," the blonde woman mewed as she stared sadly at Boone. He sighed and turned his head to the side, looking at nothing in particular as he tried to organize his thoughts on the matter. They had certainly been knocking around for long enough.

_Damn it… what the _hell_ do you say? "You're potentially a robot and it's been just _peachy _to accept?"_

"Lyra, I don't know exactly what I feel about this. All I can assure you of is that I **have** come to care for you… even with the knowledge. I can give nothing else than what comes with that to begin with," Craig turned his gaze back to the scared looking woman and felt something in him crack and soften, "I'm not good at this talking stuff… but I'm trying. At the end of the day, it doesn't matter to me. I'm here and it's the most I can offer you."

Tears began to silently cascade down Lyra's cheeks and Craig sighed in remorse, rising from his seat to move beside her. He tentatively slid an arm around her waist and tugged her head to his shoulder, his own head turning to brush his lips softly across her forehead. Lyra's one arm shakily reached up and clutched Boone's shirt, her body beginning to shake as she fought the sobs fighting to come out. The pair sat like that for several long minutes as Lyra quietly had her break down, Boone maintaining his stony visage as he crumbled inside, too. Julie's own words came back to Craig.

"_The secret life of our interiors…"_

Finally Lyra let out one more little sniffle and she started to rub at her eyes and cheeks. She pulled back from Boone and offered him a timid smile, "This… has admittedly made things a little clearer, mainly the whole gunshot to the face," she tried to turn her grimace to a smile before slowly leaning forward to give Craig a kiss, putting more emotion into it than ever before. She licked at his lips invitingly and felt a thrill as his own tongue met with hers. Finally they disentangled, both equally flushed.

"Thank you. That _**was**_ what I needed you to say."

"You're welcome."

"I guess there _is_ an upside to this."

Boone cocked an eyebrow at Lyra.

"You have no excuse to not walk _with_ me from now on. I think between my titanium bad-assery and your rifle, we'll be unstoppable," Lyra boasted excitedly, Craig knowing the twinkle in her eye was a dead giveaway she wasn't completely serious.

"I'll concede to walk at your side from here on out."

Lyra beamed.


	17. It's personal

_**Authors Note: FYI - penname change... it was a long time comin'. I'm still struggling with keeping my separators between the transitions; if the chapters seem… choppy, bear with me as I'm still reorienting myself with 's interface. In the meantime, though it may look awkward, I will have to improvise to be sure. After re-reading my previous chapters I incorrectly listed Jacobstown as Northeast… I see now it is actually Northwest so for that continuity blip, my apologies. I also took some artistic liberties with the Follower's safe house and gave it some walls… I can't remember if it actually did or not but for the sake of the story, some privacy must be had ;)**_

_**As always, thank you to those taking the time to read and big thank you to Doctortrainwreck who, over a year later, is still a faithful reader. Thank you.**_

_**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Bethesda and Obsidian besides the personality of Lyra. **_

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"The doctor's name is Henry – he's an Ex-Enclave scientist up in Jacobstown, Northwest of here. Please be careful all of you; I've heard whispers he's working with a collection of Super Mutant's. I can't promise you will receive a… warm welcome."

Lyra absently picked at her nails as she listened to Julie, her impatience growing the longer they delayed heading out. The truth was Lyra was feeling beyond _keen _to head out from the fort and hit the open Mojave again. While she and Boone's unexpected stay at the Fort had certainly improved the lot of those held within (not to mention their own) the pair had essentially accomplished all they could to help the Follower's and those they cared for, Freeside especially.

"I'm going with them Julie… for personal reasons."

Pale green eyes perked in Arcade's direction, Lyra offering the scientist a warm smile of appreciation. While Arcade wasn't exactly a master at wielding most weapons, he held his own well enough with an energy pistol and Lyra had no doubt his academic abilities would come in handy at some point or another.

_As for why this is _personal_…_

The man was still an enigma to Lyra. Neither Boone nor she had had much success in cracking the deflective personality of the blonde man and while tempted to pry, the pair could appreciate the importance of respecting boundaries. Arcade was willing to join them to meet and Lyra had a suspicion the two being ex-Enclave was more than just a _coincidence._

"Fair enough. Right well… Beatrix has been kind enough to stuff your packs to the brim for you with supplies we could spare. You can stop by her station and grab them on your way out. Good luck and come back preferably in one piece. All of you," Julie sighed and pursed her lips into a thin line as she nodded her head at each one of them.

"You worry too much Jule's, everything's going to go swimmingly," Lyra quipped as she gave the young doctor's arm a reassuring squeeze. Julie did not look placated.

"The decision is yours to make Lyra; I can't coup you up in here forever. I'm only agreeing to this because both Arcade and Craig will be there to keep an eye on you – we still do not know how stable your ," her eyes flicked quickly to Arcade, "…cerebral functioning's are at the moment."

Though Lyra was still struggling to accept the very real and startling actuality of her cybernetic body, she had surprised Boone and Julie with her open willingness to discuss the subject. Boone had near-sheepishly confessed to disallowing Arcade from initially inquiring; Lyra had appreciated his protective thoughtfulness but insisted the more that were willing to help her figure _herself_ out, the better.

"Well, good thing someone's coming along who's willing to crack me open and take a peek, hm?"

Julie rolled her eyes playfully and walked away, waving as she made her way over to one of the bustling tents.

"Honestly Lyra, at a seconds notice, just say the word," Arcade enthusiastically offered.

"Arcade… I'm a little shocked at just how badly you want _inside_ me. Figured Boone would be more to your taste," Lyra teased as the three companions and Rex made their way over to Beatrix. Arcade snorted derisively and looked Craig up and down.

"The man is easy enough on the eyes Lyra but, and this is no offense to you of course, I require… more than just _physical_ stimulation."

"My relief is overwhelming," Boone muttered as he reached down to heft one of their packs over his shoulders.

"Well, you'd certainly be the first Arcade. Well, so far as I'm aware," Lyra mused innocently, quickly slinging her own pack onto her back as Craig pushed open the large doors of The Fort.

"You mean jack ass hasn't… _inspected_ you yet?" Arcade cocked an eyebrow luridly, Lyra's cheeks exploding to a bright hue of red.

"You ask another question like that Gannon and I'll be _stimulating_ you with my fist soon enough," Boone growled as he took a menacing step towards Arcade.

"Oh Big Boy, you walked right into that one," Arcade amusingly tut, picking up his pace as he strolled past the innocently confused sniper, making his way into Freeside's shattered streets. Lyra barked out a laugh and reached up to give one of Craig's broad shoulders a squeeze.

"'Inspecting' would have been… less explicit," Lyra offered playfully.

"I'm not so sure he's going to survive this trip," the sniper grumbled as he walked at Lyra's side. The petite courier let out a low chuckle as she looked down at the hound by her side, her thoughts turning to the task at hand.

"Got any idea how long this hike is going to take us?"

"It depends. Arcade and Julie suggested we spend the night at the Follower's safe house near the base. We can continue in the morning," Boone explained absently as he gave his rifle a quick inspection. Lyra nodded mutely as the two approached Gannon patiently waiting by the gates to the Mojave, the small party making their way out into the crumbling wastes.

Rex let out an excited bark and started to trot ahead of the group, Boone opting to trail behind Arcade and Lyra as they walked side by side.

_So much for changing old habits_.

"So, Lyra… I haven't had the opportunity to really ask you; how _are_ you feeling? You know, about the whol-"

"Fine Arcade," Lyra quickly cut in, "It's not exactly something I'm ruminating on."

"Experiencing difficulties in acceptance are we?"

"Not necessarily no," Lyra began, her one hand resting on a thigh holster while the other reached up to twirl the tips of her blonde hair, "Just… don't see the point. I can't change or have any control over it so why bother?"

"Fair enough. It _is_ difficult for me to say how _**I **_would cognitively, and certainly _emotionally_, come to grips, as it were, should I be in your shoes," Arcade paused and brought a hand to his chin thoughtfully, "though I confess I would likely feel excitement in stark comparison to your… trepidation."

"It's not _just_ accepting the fact I am likely some… robot, Arcade. It's just another addition to the long and tiresome list of mysteries that is the fuckshow I call a _life_."

"Indeed. I would wager it is a strong possibility all of these things – your lack of memory and extraordinary body specifically, are connected into one equation."

Lyra nodded as she quickly scanned the Mojave, their small group making its way through crumbling buildings and cracked pavement, "Yeah and I don't have the answer so at this point, I'm opting for feigned ignorance."

"A reasonable choice."

"It's rare but sometimes I am capable of reason," Lyra mused as she slowed her pace, finding her self almost shoulder to shoulder with Boone. She looked up and offered him a timid smile, "See anything?"

"No."

The courier and sniper walked in silence for a brief while, both pairs of eyes warily scanning the surrounding buildings, before Boone spoke up, "Lyra if you're hanging around for a chit chat, it's not going to happen."

"Is it so impossible to believe I'm merely enjoying your company?" she coolly quipped before playfully smacking one of Boone's thick arms. The somber man briefly scowled before his eyes narrowed.

"We've got company."

"How far?"

"Around 200 yards. They haven't spotted us yet."

"Hey uh, guys? Those are definitely Fiends and they definitely look like murder is on their To-Do List today," Arcade said as he nervously moved closer to Lyra and Boone, Rex growling at Lyra's side. Craig's head swung quickly from left to right as he surveyed the surrounding debris, clearly considering their options for cover. Lyra locked eyes with him before nodding and grabbing onto Arcade's arm, steering him over and behind a half-dilapidated brick wall. Boone situated himself opposite their position and smoothly brought his scope to his right eye.

"How many?" Lyra whispered as loudly as possible.

"Seven hostile targets. They're jacked up alright… If we don't do this clean and quick, those chems in their system could make this… ugly. We need to hit them fast and hard, otherwise we risk losing them in the rubble and they could gain a defensive advantage," Boone explained, his body poised as if in stone, "I can take down at least three immediately when they're within range. As for the others…" He trailed off as he effortlessly raised his rifle's scope to his eye again.

_How he makes that rifle look like it weighs nothing I'll never know…_

Lyra shook the random thought out of her head before nodding at Arcade, "What if you and Arcade get into position here and I'll bait them into an ambush? We let them get as close as we're comfortable with then Rexie and I can double-time it and surround them."

Arcade nodded, "Sandwich them in a storm of bullets? I like this idea. I'll like it more if it raises our chances of survival. May I make a suggestion?"

"We can't run," Boone muttered without removing his face from the scope.

"Ass," Arcade peevishly snarled, "I was _going_ to say rather than use yourself as bait Lyra, why not Rex? Seeing as these _are_ Fiends we're dealing with here, I should think Rex would prove to be more… _alluring_ to their overactive senses and likely raise our chances they'll follow him. They'll just shoot _you_."

Lyra made an approving face as she nodded, "Not bad Arcade. I knew we kept you around for more than your tight buns and charming banter."

"Yeah? And how exactly do we instruct a _dog_ to lure a bunch of junkies our way?" Boone asked impatiently.

"Point taken," Arcade conceded stoically.

"We're wasting time. I'll move into position parallel from Rex… the second he engages I'll double-time it back to you. Rex _will_ follow. Boone, you send the first shot home to signal, after that we unleash it all," Lyra insisted, her patience growing thin as the very real threat made their way closer to their current position. Three heads nodded in agreement and after shrugging off her pack, Lyra made a low whistle to signal Rex to follow; the dog trailing on her heels as she moved away from the two men and deeper into the ruins.

_Let's just hope I don't come across any new _friends _in my travels. Assholes populate these ruins like the herpes does their faces._

Though Lyra had two nine _ems_ sitting tight in her holsters, she swung her new assault carbine forward. A highly appreciated parting gift from Mick for all of Lyra's and Boone's work toward helping Freeside, she and Boone had spent a considerable amount of time with Mick and Beatrix on an improvised shooting range the previous week. Whether by a stroke of luck, her past or her augmentations, the others had been impressed to witness the ease and skill in which Lyra handled the powerful weapon. Regardless, Mick saw to ensuring the Courier-Sniper duo would be armed to the teeth; a tiny portion of their considerable ammo stocks currently on Lyra's person.

"Way ya go," Lyra quietly commanded to Rex as she crouched under a battered window frame, her arm extended to her left directing Rex out onto the sidewalk. The dog predatorily sloped into a crouch as it trotted toward the Fiends only a few yards from Lyra's position. Voices but indistinct words were echoed off the surrounding buildings and Lyra inadvertently held her breath, watching in anticipation. The Fiends picked up their pace and soon enough they were within only a few feet from Lyra, their excited and slurred speech invading her ears as she quickly sent a wary glance at Rex.

The pack of Fiends slowly approached Rex, the dog leisurely wagging his tail as the group created a small semi-circle around the bizarre beast. Lyra smothered a grin.

_"_Just a dog"_ my ass._

"'Eyyy… check it out fuckers!"

"You ever see somethin' like that? What the fuuuuck maan."

"Yo! Violet would lose her shit to have a dog like this, let's take it!"

"Knock it out first but don't kill it!"

A chorus of agreement rang out and just as one particularly grimy looking Fiend approached Rex with a baseball bat, Rex turned on his heels and let out an enticing whimper as he backtracked away from the Fiends. To Lyra's immense pleasure the moron's followed after the dog. She turned and made her way as quietly as possible through the ruins, keeping low to avoid being seen. Her metal companion quickened his pace and Lyra hung back behind a door frame as she waited for the mob to pass, sprinting to the opposite ruins across the open street once they had.

"What the fuck man, dog! Stop! Get the fuck over here before I shoot you!" A fiend cried out angrily after they had trailed after Rex for quite some distance, a small pang of panic shooting through Lyra has she considered the very real possibility the Fiends would grow too irritated to care and just opt to kill the beast.

_Focus, he's as indestructible as you._

_Well, maybe. _She nodded resolutely to herself as she jogged through a large forum in one of the crumbling buildings, quietly sliding under a giant hole in the cement wall alongside where the Fiends currently stood. She was close to Boone and Arcade's location. A small second was spent thanking her luck she had not run into anymore hostiles in the ruins before she quickly peeked over the edge. She glanced over to where her companions had taken cover before anxiously watching Rex.

"That's it, yeah, who's a good robot fucker?" A female Fiend crooned at Rex as she crouched down and inched her way to where Rex was currently sitting. Just as she reached out to grab the dog Rex lunged, his powerful mechanical jaws snapping the woman's neck instantly, her throat tissue being ripped out in a fantastic explosion of blood as he pulled back and away.

"What the fuck ma-"

_**BANG!**_

The distinct sound of Boone reloading rang out.

Lyra reacted immediately. She sprung out from behind her cover as a third Fiend was sent flat on his back, a gaping bullet wound in his temple. Two Fiends had their backs directly to Lyra and she assaulted their spines with a barrage of 5mm rounds, the bullets shredding their flesh and downing the pair near instantly.

_Three left._

As she cocked her rifle towards her third target, a splash of energy sizzled across the chem-riddled creep, the Fiend screaming in rage and pain as Arcade's pistol fire seared his leather armor down to his flesh.

_**Bang!**_

Down went the burned man, another flawless shot planted between his eyes. Lyra and Boone made short work out of the remaining Fiend, a female capped in a weathered Brahmin skull. The strung-out Wastelander's shots of retaliation went far and wide as she attempted to shoot and dive for cover. Eventually, Boone's marksmanship won out.

Rex was viciously savaging the right arm of the final target, the Fiend screaming in agony as he uselessly swung his bat at Rex's titanium shell. Lyra almost felt a moment of pity before approaching the man, Boone and Arcade holding their fire as she carefully advanced on the scene.

"Ahhhh! Fuck! Fuuuuck!"

5mm fire rang out, echoing fiercely through the ruins as the Fiend's screams ceased and his body crumpled to the paved Mojave earth. Lyra let out a long breath she hadn't realized she was holding and quickly scanned around the ruins. Feeling confident all threats had been neutralized she crouched and beckoned Rex to her.

"Such a good, handsome boy! How can mean ol' Boone figure you dumb, huh?" She gave the dogs' furry neck a great rub and planted a kiss atop the canine's wet, cold nose.

"Well, that was… invigorating."

"Didn't soak your panties did you, Gannon?"

"Shut up Craig."

Lyra felt a smile break across her stony features as she relaxed, standing to greet the two men as they approached her, "I think that went _quite_ well, don't you?"

Boone shrugged, "well enough. Let's keep moving."

"_Such_ a killjoy," Arcade quipped and Lyra widened her eyes in agreement.

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"I just changed the sheets on the bed so count yourselves lucky. There's food in the fridge, feel free to help yourselves."

When the small party had finally reached the Followers safe house it had just become dark. To their great surprise someone was there to greet them, a doctor who apparently used it as a base of operation's as she travelled the Wastes, offering temporary medical assistance where needed. She stood before them now as she gave a small inventory of the house's amenities.

"Thank you Doctor Luria, this will do nicely," Lyra said in appreciation, her urge to throw herself across one of the bed's mattresses great.

"Don't leave any Nuca Cola in the fridge or it may not be there when you get back. I'm a bit of an addict," The doctor explained good-naturedly before turning her gaze to Arcade, "Fancy finding _you_ out in the Mojave Mr. A-of-Spades."

"Yes well, revel in my rare and impressive appearance for it is fleeting," Arcade sarcastically responded, crossing his arms defensively over his chest. The doc let out a giggle and smiled shyly at the man.

"Aw come on Arcade, I'm only teasing. You just never really seemed the… adventurous type."

"Duty calls," He offered sardonically before cracking out an awkward smile, "It _is_ nice to see you."

"Will you be staying the night as well?" Lyra asked, woefully recanting the three beds in each of the three small rooms.

"Should you folks not mind, I would prefer it… I'm not too keen on making the hike to North Vegas in the dark."

"That's fine, I'm _sure_ Craig and Lyra can share," Arcade breezed.

A distinct growl issued from Boone who was leaning against a wall to the back corner of the main room. Lyra felt a blush creep over her cheeks before bashfully obliging, "It's okay; that will work."

"Splendid. Well, socializing has been fun but I am sure I saw a Big Book of Science in one of those rooms and I intend on becoming acquainted with it. Goodnight," Arcade said as he made his way to one of the rooms, quietly closing the door behind him. Doctor Luria smiled warmly and also said goodnight to the pair before entering her own dwellings for the night.

_And let the romance begin!_

Lyra snorted and crossed her arms over her chest as she strolled out of the tiny hallway and into the main room where Boone was lowering himself onto a small and worn couch.

"You're not sleeping there," she stated simply.

"I am."

Lyra felt something grip her insides and throat, "Craig… come on."

She watched imploringly as Boone rested his forearms on his thighs as he sat, his hands dangling between his legs. He sighed and looked up at her, his lips pursed.

"I'm not… comfortable with this arrangement," He quickly righted himself after a sigh escaped his mouth, "I mean, about our sleeping quarters."

A breath of relief passed Lyra's lips as she moved to sink onto the couch beside Boone, her head tipping onto his shoulder, "It's no different than the tent. You're being silly."

"Two mattresses and no one within thirty feet; these aren't even rooms. Just walls erected below the ceiling…" Boone muttered absently, clearly attempting to avoid Lyra's gaze as she slowly tilted her head to cock an eyebrow at the quiet sniper.

"Are you being serious?" she asked as a bewildered smirk spread across her face.

Boone's shoulders shrugged and he chewed on his cheek, "You're really going to push this aren't you?"

"Yes. Because I can. Now unless you're planning on salaciously taking my innocence, I don't see what the big deal is."

Craig blushed deeply before recovering and croaking embarrassingly, "Is that even possible?"

Lyra swatted Boone across the bicep, "Jerk. Yes, believe it or not Julie confirmed, by some miracle or another, I _am_ a lady. So treat me like one," she pouted playfully. Sure, the timid pair certainly hadn't gone beyond the occasional embrace or kiss before sleeping on their own mattresses but it was the closeness of sharing a bed, the _comfort_ of the simple act, which instilled an aching Lyra couldn't deny.

"Hggnn…" Boone visibly hesitated as he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, "Fine. But I call right side."

Lyra giggled as the two stood and silently made their way to the room they would share. As Craig closed the door behind him Lyra felt her cheeks grow hot. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, Boone was right; there were some changes she hadn't full anticipated as the pair populated the tiny room for the night. In their tent at the fort the pair had been essentially forced to never undress in front of the other – between differing sleeping schedules due to responsibilities or having to use the community showers and washrooms, the moment had just never quite _arisen._ There had been that time in Novac when she had ventured out of the bathroom topless but that had been little more than a lack of caring.

The memory of Boone's gaze as she caught his eyes trailing her body caused Lyra to shiver involuntarily.

_Ohhh… down girl. _

Her eyes twitched up just as Craig reached to pull his grimy white shirt over his head, Lyra biting her lip as she found it was her turn to _ogle_ the stoic sniper's physique. She couldn't help but appreciate the rolling yet sculpted edges and curves to Boone's chest and stomach; the man wasn't incredibly defined but enough muscle and stock was there to be more than evident.

Boone coughed, "Are you sure about this?"

Lyra shook her head to clear her cloudy senses and sent a shy smile Boone's way, "If… you are," she ventured cautiously before she could control her insecurities, "Look if it's about the whole… metal thing. I won't crush you or anything. I know we had more space having our own mattresses but Julie _did_ do a ridiculous amount of tests… and one of them that's stumped her is exactly what type of light uh… alloy I've got goin' on…" she trailed as she felt herself visibly shrink and her eyes grow wet.

"Lyra, look no. It's… not that, I mean I _know_; I carried you out of that god damn Casino myself. It's….," Boone offered as he hurriedly made his way over to her. He tentatively slid a hand up her ribcage and behind her back to pull her against his bare chest. Lyra felt him plant his chin atop her head of hair and she waited, trusting to see if the somber man would share his usually guarded emotions and thoughts. She pressed her cheek to his chest, her own hands sliding around his narrow hips and broad back. A hand made its way up her one arm, moving to callously cup her cheek as her head was turned to meet Craig's tentative lips.

Boone pulled back too soon for Lyra's tastes, "I haven't been in this kind of situation… since Carla. I was terrible at this… romance stuff before her and I'm worse now," He chewed his lower lip before meeting Lyra's gaze, "I want it… but wanting is different from being ready."

_Oh. Apparently I'm not the _only_ one with _that_ on the brain… Has __**that**__ been his deal the whole time?_

"No, no I don't mean that! I was thinking mor…"

Craig cut Lyra off as he, too, began to shyly fumble over his words and intentions.

"Well yeah, hgn, I meant mainly the whole… clothing removal, sharing a bed. In general."

The two bashfully looked at each other before a rare smile spread across Boone's face, the action almost foreign to Lyra's senses.

"Craig Boone; is that a _smile_?"

"You know what they say about First Recon…"

"Challenge accepted," Lyra quipped as the sniper unit's clever motto echoed through her thoughts and she wrapped her arms tighter around Craig, pushing up to stand on the tips of her toes to kiss him hungrily. As their kiss intensified, Lyra felt Boone's hands hurriedly grasp at her pauldron's clasps and then making short work of her leather jacket. Both items were thrown to the floor before her dirty black tank top met the same fate. Boone sighed hungrily into their kiss; trailing his lips from her mouth to her jaw and finally down her neck. A quivering gasp escaped Lyra's lips and Craig pulled away abruptly.

The man looked distinctly torn, "Not… here. We have to stop," his voice was raspier than usual as he blew a long breath out before sitting down on the creaky bed. Lyra swallowed deeply before her hands slowly reached for the belt around her hips. A wave of seductive delight coursed through her as Boone's eyes rose to watch Lyra remove each article of clothing until she was down to her lingerie.

_One of the perks of Lucky 38; sexy sleepwear! Now work your magic!_

"You're killing me here Lyra," Boone groaned when she slowly moved to stand between his legs as he sat on the bed, his hands instantly cupping the back of Lyra's creamy thighs before slowly sliding them up her soft skin. A devilish grin spread across Lyra's pretty features.

"Oh eat your heart out tiger," she purred half playfully-half sexily before gasping quietly as Craig's hands suddenly squeezed her ample _behind_.

"I'll remember this," He rumbled threateningly, his lips meeting the tender flesh of her hip as he learned down, a content sigh exploding from Lyra as he did so. Boone straightened back up and gently pushed Lyra away, rising in order to remove his cargo pants and boots. Lyra unabashedly watched as the sniper was reduced to a worn pair of boxers. She stepped forward and softly traced a finger along the top of his waist band, goose bumps spreading across Craig' flesh. Their lips met once more and Lyra reveled in the feeling of one of Boone's large hands grasping chunks of her hair, the urgency in their kiss increasing as the pair tumbled onto the bed. A loud creak of old, tired springs rang out. Just as the pair entwined their limbs a loud banging rang out from the wall opposite them.

"Honestly, can it wait?" Arcade's piqued voice cried out.

Boone nearly threw Lyra off the bed he straightened up so fast. The courier couldn't help but let out a hearty laugh, the heat of the moment effectively squashed but the hilarity none the less apparent. Boone had a look of abject horror.

"Tomorrow Gannon. Tomorrow I deal with you," He called back in retaliation, clear irritation permeating each growl of a syllable. An audible "pah" was flung back in turn.

"I'm going to skin that touchy twat," the burly sniper murmured into Lyra's neck before propping himself up on an elbow to stare accusingly at Lyra, "See? Bad idea."

Lyra stretched provocatively across the bed, "You certainly didn't seem to think so five seconds ago."

"You're pushing it Lyra."

"Come on, let's get under the blankets. Now that I don't have you drenching me in warm slobber, I'm freezing," She quipped as she scurried to tuck herself under the thick sheets and blankets adorning their bed. Craig muttered incoherently and slid in beside her, tucking his arms behind his head as he lay on his back. Lyra shimmied over and lay across his chest, her finger tips absently gliding across Boone's Pecs.

"Another time?"

Craig slowly nodded with this eyes shut, one arm removing itself from behind his head to encircle Lyra's shoulders. He leaned over and planted a tender kiss on her forehead, "Another time."


	18. Cutie Mutie

_**Author's note: Those of you taking the time to read, you have my thanks as always! **_

_**Bridgedweller: internet is seriousbusiness, trololol, we got a bad ass here etc. etc. **_

_**Falloutkitten: In time! Technically Lyra has already come across him but she didn't exactly get a proper introduction. I do indeed have plans for him - Thank you for the review :)**_

_**As for this chapter itself; I wrote this first chunk based off my own personal experience in the game… I was not impressed. Not much action in this one; it is a little dry for my tastes but I needed to get this out of the way to ensure the story is properly set up.**_

_**DISCLAIMER: Any content taken from the game is explicitly owned by Bethesda and Obsidian and merely borrowed for fun/continuities sake - not profit.**_

_**/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/**_

Bleary eyes slowly cracked open as Lyra rolled onto her side, absently noting that she was alone in the old, creaky bed. The small room in the Followers safe house had no windows so she lazily brought her arm up to her face, grimacing as her Pip Boy's light assaulted her sensitive sight.

_Six AM - Hello world!_

A groan escaped the young woman's lips as she regretfully pulled herself from the warmth of the bed's blankets, making her way to her clothes that had been neatly folded atop a chair in the corner. A tender smile spread across Lyra's face as she appreciated Boone's bemusing habits. She tugged on her leather armor, cinching her pauldrons in place as she made her way out and into the house's living room.

"Good morning," Arcade briskly offered as he sipped at the cup in his hands, the scientist seated comfortably on the relatively plush couch, a shrewd smirk gracing his features.

"There's coffee if you're interested Lyra – it'll be stale but it'll do its job," Doctor Luria extended her arm, offering the courier a steaming mug. Lyra nodded her thanks and took a hesitant sip, grimacing at the bleak taste but none the less feeling sated.

"Where's Boone?"

Arcade lazily waved towards the house's front door, "Nature called."

Lyra puckered her lips and issued an amusing squeak as she sauntered to a wingback chair, the old leather crunching beneath her weight. Before they headed out Lyra would have to do the same, the lack of washroom facilities in the old building mildly inconvenient. She reached down to scratch Rex who was loyally lying on the floor near her side.

"If you're interested Lyra, I have something for you," Doctor Luria said as she moved towards a large, metal cabinet, "combat armor - near perfect condition. I certainly would find it cumbersome but perhaps you or Mr. Boone would find it useful."

"_Mr. Boone_," Lyra snorted as she stood from the stiff chair and began to appreciatively inspect the slightly battered grey-green armor, opting to set her less-than-tasty coffee on a table nearby. She rapped a knuckle on the hard Kevlar plating, nodding her head in approval, "Very cool. Arcade, any dibs?"

"Uh, no. Thank you but I'll stick to, you know, keeping behind yourself or that supercilious sniper," he mused as he leaned back on the couch, "I'm not exactly a 'front lines' kind of guy, which is certainly the purpose of such... attire."

Lyra shrugged and smiled at the good doctor before her, "Yeah we'll take it off your hands; I think Boone could rock it."

"Rock what?"

The leather clad courier spun on her heels and sent a bright grin Boone's way as he came in through the front door, "New digs. Time to retire that filthy shirt and cargo combination you've got going on."

It was the snipers turn to inspect the armor, "I appreciate this," he offered to Doctor Luria as he walked off with the items and headed into their sleeping quarters to change. The doctor nodded in acknowledgement then turned to Lyra, extending her hand, Lyra giving it a squeeze in turn.

"I'm heading out now, good luck on your endeavors and keep safe."

"You, too, Doc - thank you for your hospitality. You Followers are good folk," Lyra said sincerely.

"Good luck in North Vegas Square. The squatters can be… _touchy_," Arcade said as he also shook the doctor's hand in parting.

"I hope to see you again soon Arcade. It's been a pleasure catching up. I intend on staying in Westside for a while following my trip to the North. If you're interested in assisting with the Co-Op there, I am sure it would be welcome."

Arcade swallowed, "Noted. It all depends on where this woman drags me to but if we _happen_ to survive and be in your neighborhood, I certainly don't see why I cannot pop by."

"Well enough. Goodbye."

Arcade and Lyra watched as the woman exited the humble abode, Lyra then turning to rummage through the fridge. Just as she began to twist off the cap to a Nuke Cola, a strangled scream erupted from outside the walls of the building. Arcade snapped a panicked look in Lyra's direction and was about to speak as an armor clad Boone exploded from one of the rooms. He took a second to shoot Lyra a troubled glance before he made his way to the front door, opting to crouch low beside the door frame. He quickly gave his rifle a once over.

"Arcade, get behind the counter. We've got trouble."

Lyra didn't hesitate as she ran to grab her assault carbine and moved into position opposite Boone as Arcade situated himself. Boone nodded at Lyra.

"On three."

Lyra counted the seconds and burst through the door behind Boone when she hit three, Boone crouched low as she stood high. A pang of sadness briefly gripped her as she noticed Doctor Luria's bloody and viciously broken corpse a few feet away before she felt like someone punched her in the shoulder. Precious seconds were spent acknowledging the pain before Boone's rifle fire brought her back, Lyra immediately targeting a Legionnaire several feet from where she stood. She felt another bullet sear past her neck, the sting of her flesh as it was blown away coursing through her senses as she unloaded her mag into the man, grunting in pain and frustration as she watched the warrior go down. She heard an audible grunt from Craig as he took a slug to the chest before he collected his balance and downed the second attacker. A few moments passed as the pair held ragged, anticipating breaths. As the seconds ticked by, Lyra began to relax and Rex made his way from his protective position near Arcade, a guttural growl issuing from the beasts throat as it started to investigate around the building.

_If Boone hadn't changed into that armor…_

Lyra didn't want to think about it.

"Stay alert. Those were Legionnaire Assassin's… there's _always_ a Standard-Bearer," Boone rasped as he inched his way along one of the building's walls.

"You've been shot. Get back inside and let me handle this," Lyra protested quietly, a hand haltingly placed on Boone's shoulder.

"Kevlar stopped it. I'm fine."

"This is not the time to argue," She hissed vehemently, "Get inside."

Boone warily acquiesced and made his way back to the door frame behind them, a look of discomfort plaguing his usually stoic features. Once Lyra felt convinced he would stay, she made her way carefully around the opposite corner of the building, her eyes darting anxiously around her as she scanned for potential hiding places.

Before she had a chance to react, Lyra felt something slam _hard_ into her ribcage. She cried out in surprise and pain, grunting as she was sent tumbling to the ground, her carbine knocked out and away from her grasp from the force of the blow. She winced as she scurried to turn and recover, a Legionnaire with Caesar's Flag atop broad shoulders making his way menacingly towards her, super sledge in hand.

"Caesar sends his regards Courier," the man growled as he raised the Sledge high to deliver a final, crushing blow.

"Fuck you!" Lyra screamed as she quickly dived for the man's legs, the ground she populated seconds prior being pulverized beneath the crushing weight of the immense weapon. She and the Legionnaire tumbled roughly to the ground; the man losing his grip on the Sledge as Rex suddenly exploded from around the other side of the building and ferociously began mangling the enemy's arm. Lyra's hands found the man's throat and she tightened, squeezing as hard as she could, until a satisfying _snap_ was felt beneath her grip and her assailant went limp.

She took a deep, quivering breath and rose from the Mojave's earth, unable to deny the sharp ache in her ribs from the Super Sledge. Had she not been fitted with whatever metal plating protected her, Lyra doubted she would have survived the devastating blow. Groaning audibly, she carefully reached down for her assault carbine and hobbled her way back to Boone and Arcade, safe within the confines of the Followers house.

Immediately her sniper companion relaxed in his stance and rose to help the battered woman inside, an arm gingerly looping itself under her armpit. Arcade's mouth opened in clear anticipation of asking who exactly had attacked the small group before he noticed Lyra's wounds.

"Honestly Lyra, you can't go all _Rambo _just because of your… abilities," he muttered irritably as Craig lowered her to the couch, wincing from his own wound with each movement, as Arcade hastily made his way over with his Doctor's Bag, "You're _durable_ without a doubt but let's be real here, you're not indestructible."

"Says you," She muttered before cocking an eyebrow, "and what the hell does 'going Rambo?' mean?" She grimaced as the doctor began patching up her neck and shoulder wound, digging out the bulllet and bandaging the wound before reaching down to inspect the damage to her side.

"Old saying. Take off your armor; I need a better look at your ribcage."

Lyra did as she was told and waited expectantly as Arcade went about tending to her wound; her eyes shifting in Craig's direction as the sniper tenderly removed the top layer of his armor overlay and under fatigues. An angry discoloured bruise was already dominating Boone's right pectoral muscle and he traced a circle around it, cautiously applying pressure before letting out an unhappy grunt.

"Miraculous. Little more than tissue damage," Arcade mumbled as he finished taping up the layer of gauze he was applying and inserted the syringe of a Stimpak behind Lyra's ear, the near-instant soothing of the painkiller enveloping her. He stood and made his way over to Boone.

"Just a bruise; I'm fine," Craig explained as he began pulling back on his combat armor, waving the doting doctor away.

Arcade nodded and heavily set his bag back on the counter before turning back to the pair, "What a shame about Doctor Luria…"

Lyra nodded sadly in agreement as she cinched her armor in place one more time, "We should have all left together. I shouldn't have let her leave alone," she said sadly.

"You couldn't have known. Let it go," Boone admonished quickly before reaching down for his pack, "Get your gear; this place isn't safe anymore."

Lyra sighed and as the small party made their way out of their brief residence, doing her best to avert her eyes from Luria's bloody corpse before Arcade cautiously approached it and took what he could find from the doctor's pack and pockets. With a heavy sigh he rose and made his way over to Lyra's side, the pair sharing an empathetic look before setting their sights on the road in the distance. Lyra chewed on her bottom lip.

_You'll pay for all the people you've hurt Caesar. I'll _personally_ make sure of that._

_**/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/**_

"Welcome to Jacobstown human. You're free to walk around just don't stare at the Nightkin. They don't like people looking at them. And if you're NCR… keep it to yourself. They're not too popular around here."

Lyra blinked in shock at the articulate and _normal_ sounding mutant before the small party. Their hike up the mountain had been relatively uneventful, the biggest threat they faced being little more than giant Mantis and the occasional irate Bighorner, the latter being easy enough to avoid. As the gates to the mountaintop town had loomed in the near distance, Lyra had made out three hulking and distinctly _green_ figures by the entrance. Unlike the mutant's fellow guards who had growled their own greetings, the elderly one who approached them sounded _human_.

_Oh, the thing's you'll find in the Wastes…_

"We're looking for a Doctor Henry," Boone stated, his eyes warily scanning the mutant before them.

"Doc's inside the Lodge, just behind me. You might want to remove that beret of yours friend, I wouldn't suggest wearing it while in town."

"I'm sorry and you are?" Lyra asked.

"My name's Marcus. I'm the leader of this settlement," the mutant patiently explained, Lyra catching Boone's hesitant glare as he regretfully pulled off his red beret, tucking it into one of his side pockets. Arcade seemed to be utterly intrigued by the friendly giant before them.

"May I ask you some questions?" Lyra ventured hesitantly, accepting the very real threat that was held within the mountain top retreat. She definitely had no desire to piss off a community of Super Mutants.

"Certainly."

"Why the animosity for NCR personnel?"

Marcus rubbed his giant hands together and sighed, "Lot of bad blood between super mutants and humans. Goes back years. Some here still got the scars and memories. Me? I don't really have a problem with the NCR. Set their sights a little high, but they try. Legion… That's another story," he explained gravely.

Lyra nodded in agreement, "Tell me about it," she brought a finger to her lips and tapped it thoughtfully against the soft flesh, "You mentioned 'Nightkin', _what_ is a Nightkin and for that matter, what's wrong with them?"

"They're Super Mutant's, bred specifically for The Master's Special Ops army. Long story. They're the blue mutants you'll see around town. As for what's wrong with them, they suffer from schizophrenia due to their excessive use of Stealth Boys. One of the reason's I settled Jacobstown was so that they could be cured. While they're here they're forbidden to have Stealth Boys so that their craziness doesn't get worse," Marcus sighed heavily, "Trouble is they don't like being visible, either. They don't take being exposed too well."

"I see. We'll do our best to stay out of their way," Lyra offered as she shot a warning glance in Arcade's direction before continuing, "Any town rules we should be aware of?"

"You're decent to ask. Same as any civilized town. Don't start any fights or steal anything, we'll treat you fair. Not a lot to ask," Marcs finished simply.

"Fair enough. Thank you Marcus, if it's alright we'd like to go see this Doctor Henry - I've been told he can help me with my dog…" Lyra explained as she reached down to pat the furry neck of her canine friend. Marcus nodded and turned on his heel, gesturing for the others to follow him.

"He's a good man. I know he's busy working on the cure for the Nightkin, but I don't see him turning you away, either. There's extra rooms in the Lodge that you're welcome to, I'll see that your arrival is known," Marcus explained as he lead the group further into the settlement, Lyra's eyes taking in the beauty that surrounded the bizarrely populated town. A pristine but small lake was outside the lodge, small cottages dotting the landscape below the mountain's natural walls. She briefly looked at the blue mutant that stood by a small herd of Bighorners, the large humanoid muttering to itself as it adjusted the sun hat atop its large head.

"That's Lily. She's good with the livestock and takes good care of them," Marcus explained as they passed and made their way to the giant front doors of the lodge, "She's a good soul; it's a shame what the Stealth Boy's have done to her mind."

Lyra decided, should she have the chance, she would enjoy taking some time to ask Marcus a number of questions that were currently plaguing her thoughts. For now she had to focus on Rex, fearing she could become side tracked if she gleaned too much from the friendly mutant. As they entered the lobby of the lodge, an irate growl was issued to their left and Lyra stepped back in surprise at the looming and _large_ Nightkin beside them. He had a bright red scarf tied around his blue neck and a distinct look of displeasure across his fierce features.

"_More_ humans Marcus?" he sneered angrily.

"They will not harm your Nightkin Keene; I'll see to it myself. That being said, let us show them we Mutants are capable of some hospitality," Marcus good-naturedly explained as he gestured for the small party to head to the right of the entrance, towards a room where Lyra could see a ghoul working at a computer terminal.

"Bah, humans," Keene snarled behind them as he exited through the lodges front doors, the heavy wood slamming behind him.

"Calamity? I have visitors for Doctor Henry."

The ghoul, Calamity, turned around and made her way over from the computer terminal, "Doc won't be pleased, he's a little busy at the moment. What's up?" she rasped as she crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes warily scanning the travelers facing her before landing on Rex. Lyra felt if the ghoul _had_ eyebrows, she'd be coking one.

"It's my cyber-dog… there's something up with him," Lyra explained.

"You're a Follower," Calamity stated plainly as she looked at Arcade, "You tellin' me there ain't anyone _you_ know who coulda figured it out? We're a little busy here."

"An astute observation but, no. We just really wanted a little escape, perhaps tackle a few bunny slopes, take in the scenery… that kind of thing," Arcade sarcastically countered.

"Now, I'd know that attitude from a mile away… Arcade, what the hell are _you_ doing here?" an elderly voice spoke up from behind a screen as an old gentleman made his way over, a hand reaching to clap Arcade on the shoulder. Arcade looked distinctly uncomfortable and nodded at the aged doctor. Lyra suddenly understood why Arcade had decided to join them and like her questions for Marcus, stowed away her curiosity for a later opportunity.

"Henry, good to see you're still… contributing to the greater good. Never figured you had a soft spot for mutants."

"Time changes you kiddo. What brings you here?"

Arcade waved at Lyra, indicating it was her turn to take over as the Scientist was known to struggle with chit-chat. Lyra took a deep breath and crouched down at Rex's side, sadly patting his metallic flank, "This is Rex… there's something wrong with him but we can't figure out what. The scientists at The Fort in New Vegas were, well… stumped. I was told to come to you."

Doctor Henry hardly spared a glance at the robotic beast, "It's neural degeneration. Biomed gel can only preserve a brain for so long, so you'll need to find a replacement," He slowly knelt down to get a better look at Rex before carefully straightening up again, "I haven't left Jacobstown for years, but there was one woman in Novac… Gibson? I remember her living with a pack of hounds. Fiends and Legion would also have viable specimens… provided you can get to them."

"I've met … I hope she's willing to part with one of her friends," Lyra explained before another thought popped into her mind, "If you're replacing his brain, will that radically change his behavior?"

Doctor Henry seemed to consider the question for a moment, "Yes and no. A dog's cognitive abilities are only so… complicated. I suspect some _traits_ may be carried over, ferociousness or personality in particular, but Rex will function the same… more or less."

Arcade suddenly spoke up, "Is there a way to preserve his original neurological pathways?"

"Possibly… I could potentially clone his current brain and hard plant its data into my computer system and attempt a transfer. I cannot guarantee this would be successful, however. Why? It would be simpler to just implant the new specimen."

Lyra and Boone also looked at Arcade curiously, the scientist shifting awkwardly under everyone's gaze, "Lyra, I would like to remain behind with Doctor Henry if possible. I have some… theories I'd like to test with his assistance. Do you think you and Craig could make the trip alone?"

Boone sighed irritably, "It's a long walk to Novac from here."

"We don't have much of a choice," Lyra shrugged her shoulders uselessly, "You didn't answer the question though Arcade."

"Just… trust me on this," he snapped.

"Fine. Touchy much?" Lyra sighed as she crossed her arms, "Boone's got a point though… that's at least a, what, 2 week walk from here? Lame."

"Might I make a suggestion?" Marcus intervened, "In a few days' time a caravan should be arriving at our gates. They typically spend a day of trading… but I am aware Novac is one of their main stops. You may want to consider offering your added protection in exchange for travelling with them."

"That's our best option," Boone agreed, slowly nodding his head in approval as he mulled the mutant's proposal over. Marcus turned to Lyra and smiled as warmly as possible.

"In the meantime, you're welcome to the amenities we have to offer. Keep clear of the Nightkin and stick amongst yourselves and I don't see us having any problems."

Doctor Henry turned to Arcade, "I understand you want to discuss our options regarding this cyber dog but your assistance would not go unappreciated on my other areas of research, specifically the Nightkin's schizophrenia."

"You know me Henry; always ready and eager to bury myself in paperwork," Arcade sassed as he made his way over to one of the doctor's research stations, picking up several stacks of papers on the table as his eyes perused their contents, "It's always interesting to branch out."

"We'll leave you to it," Lyra said as she, Boone and Marcus made their way out of the medical facilities. As Rex followed on Lyra's heels, Arcade called out behind them.

"Uh… Rex better stay with us," He carefully commanded.

"We could really use him for this trip…" Lyra began before Arcade cut her off.

"I'm sure you could, but there's no sense in gallivanting half way across the Mojave to get him a new brain if he dies along the way. Better safe than sorry."

Lyra cocked an eyebrow, "Arcade, are you fixing to steal my cyber dog?"

"Not at all. Just… being cautious," he implored awkwardly.

"We're not leaving for a few more days, though!"

"Lyra, don't argue with me on this. The dog stays – Henry and I need to do a proper examination and with his assistance, we could also ensure there's nothing else… _amiss_."

Lyra puffed out her cheeks with a great, yielding sigh and shrugged, turning to the dog at her side, "Stay Rexie."

Rex issued a disappointed whine before turning and walking back into the clinic, his tail tucked between his legs. Lyra felt a brief pang of regret and made her way back to Boone and Marcus, but not before narrowing her eyes in mock anger at Arcade. As she entered the lobby she saw Marcus and Boone talking near the large front desk. She picked up the snow globe that was curiously sitting atop the battered counter and gave it a shake as she listened in on their conversation.

"…Caesar thinks he can change human nature. Most of the Legion is _following_ Caesar, _not_ Caesar's ideals. When he's gone, it'll crumble. Might not happen overnight. Might take a few decades. But it'll happen. Basic human nature – greed, ambition, jealousy – will see to it," Marcus was explaining, Boone narrowing his eyes as he listened to what the super mutant had to say.

"Wish I could share your… optimism," Craig grumbled as he turned his head to look at nothing in particular, "The reality is the man has a whole army between him and whoever could potentially pose a threat. The NCR is stretched out so thin here… a direct assault of his person, without risk of escape, is near impossible. Not that I wouldn't _love _to have the… _opportunity_."

"It's not my business to ask, but I'm assuming you've had less-than-favorable experiences with the Legion."

Boone let out a bitter laugh, "yeah. You could say that."

"Marcus… what makes you think the NCR is too ambitious? It's not that I can't agree with the logic, their current situation speaks for itself, but going by your past experiences…?" Lyra asked curiously.

Marcus crossed his arms thoughtfully, "They expand. Fast. If you've got land they want, they'll take it, eventually. They did it out West . They'll do it here. They keep _rolling_ over people… they'll regret it. That's how revolutions start," he explained simply.

"What do _you_ think about that Boone?" Lyra asked, turning expectantly to face the brooding man as she placed the snow globe back on the counter, her hands absently fiddling with a weathered guest book.

"Accurate. I'm not so sure about the revolution part, though."

"I've seen the NCR grow from a single settlement – Shady Sands – into the Republic. I may harbor some misgivings and disagree on a few of their policies but… they've done good. For the most part," Marcus conceded, "Where abouts are you folks from anyway?"

Lyra let out a soft chuckle, "Drifters I suppose… although I guess with the time we've spent at The Fort you could say New Vegas. Does your settlement have many dealings with them?"

"The Followers are decent folk. I admire their desire to work for the greater good. As for New Vegas as a whole: not really. Heard it's paradise in the Wasteland. Never been there myself. Doubt they'd let a mutant in," He uncrossed his arms and shook his head bemusedly, "Amazes me folks will come from all over the Wastes to throw away everything they've got in that town."

"Would you join us outside Marcus? I noticed a few intact chairs that looked rather inviting out on that patio in front of the lake," Lyra began as she started inching her way away from the pair standing by the large desk, her aching feet begging for relief. Boone and Marcus conceded and the three of them made their way outside, Lyra instantly admiring the setting sun reflected on the glassy surface of the lake before she and Boone both sat on adjacent chairs. Marcus opted to lower his considerable bulk down onto the cement along the patio's edges.

"If it's not too forward I'd actually love to know more about you," Lyra ventured as she reached down into the pack she had deposited at her side. She pulled out a few snack cakes and passed them around, Boone accepting a few while Marcus declined and let out a long sigh.

"Was part of a Super Mutant army. Ran a town, walked the Wasteland with a tribal. Now I'm here."

_Everyone's always so _specific_ in the Wastes…_

Lyra scoffed good-naturedly and persisted, "A Super Mutant Army? Wouldn't have wanted to meet you guys on a bad day."

Marcus let out a hearty chuckle, "Long story, so here's the short version. The Master created Super Mutants and Nightkin. The Master thought he could unify everyone. No more differences. No more war. Didn't end well."

Boone leaned back in his lawn chair as he smacked his hands together, effectively knocking whatever cake particles remained onto the ground, "Heh. Who does _that_ sound like?"

"Indeed," Marcus agreed solemnly.

Lyra was utterly enthralled by the mutant before her, her fondness for him growing with each piece of information, "And you were a mayor at some point?"

"Sure was. Town was Broken Hills. Bunch of Super Mutant's, humans and ghouls, all living together peacefully," he diffidently smiled, "well, most of the time," he finished before eyeing Lyra amusedly, "Go on - ask me about the Tribal."

Lyra laughed, "Am I that obvious?"

"Nothing wrong with a little curiosity," Marcus held before continuing, "We were looking for a GECK to save the village of Arroyo. Eventually we did. Nuked an oil rig in the process. We went separate ways after that. I went east into the Rockies, looking for other mutants like myself. Don't know what happened to my friend. I've got a feeling it turned out alright in the end."

"You have quite the story Marcus… I'm sure you're very busy here in Jacobstown but I can't deny I would give anything you'd ask to have you join us on our trip," Lyra said as she gave a great stretch, the chair creaking sadly beneath her. Marcus chuckled and turned his gaze outwards, surveying the other Mutant's busily making their way around the settlement.

"Tempting Miss Lyra, but my duty lies here. For now."

"Fair enough. Well, I don't know about you Boone but I'm pooped," Lyra yawned as she stood from her seat, throwing her pack on her shoulders, "What room's can we lay claim to Marcus?"

"Head up the stairs and go to the left. The first set of rooms are empty. Take your pick," he paused before adding, "Lock your door at night. Just in case."

"Will do. You coming Craig?"

"Soon. I have a few more questions for Marcus."

"Poor guy," Lyra laughed as she said her good nights and made her way back inside the lodge, stopping briefly at the clinic to say good night to her companion's there before practically dragging herself up the old, wooden stairs. She chose the first room to her right and pushed the door open, slightly taken aback by its tidy interior, all things considered. She dumped her pack on the bed and made her way to the washroom, quickly checking to see if the water worked before letting out a happy yip when warm water began to fill the tub. She quickly undressed and submerged herself in the warm water.

"Ah shit," she groaned as she forgot the patch job Arcade had done to her ribs and neck, her surprise none-too-great with the fact both wounds were little more than dull aches at this point. She sat up in the tub and carefully peeled off the gauze on her ribs and neck, rolling her eyes humorously as pink but _healed _flesh greeted her. She unabashedly dropped the bloody pieces of gauze onto the tiled floor with a satisfying _splat_ before sinking back into the warm water, using a foot to turn the taps off as the tub filled. She laid back, a content sigh escaping her lips as she comfortably sunk into a thoughtless lull, losing track of time as her mind was conveniently silent for once.

"Hey."

Lyra cocked an eye open and looked over at Boone leaning against the washroom's door frame. She laid an arm shyly across her bare chest, "Creeper. No free peep show for you."

To Lyra's surprise the sniper began to remove his own pieces of clothing, the Kevlar plates of his combat armor meeting the floor with an audible _thunk_. As his hands hooked on the waist band of his boxers Lyra felt her cheeks go red and she averted her gaze, looking up only as she felt the water shift around her, Boone lowering himself into the tub as well. He reached back and cranked the taps, filling the tub with a little more hot water before turning them off again, his own pleased sigh entering Lyra's ears.

"How… bold of you," Lyra teased, raising a leg from the water to poke Craig's hard stomach. The sniper allowed a rare smile to spread across his face before he took Lyra's foot in hand and began to rub, a groan escaping Lyra's mouth as he did so. He did the same to her other foot and Lyra reveled in the rare show of attention, closing her eyes in delight as her sore feet received some much needed relief.

"I can do bold… within reason," Boone rasped softly before sliding a hand up Lyra's muscled calf. To her surprise he planted a soft kiss on the side of her ankle and she felt warmth spread through her she hadn't felt since their night at the Follower's safe house. She gingerly pulled her legs away from Boone and sat up, ignoring the water that sloshed up and over the tub, and reached for a bar of soap sitting on the ledge.

"Turn around, I'll wash your back," she offered softly, lathering up the soap in her hands as Boone stood to turn around, Lyra stifling a giggle at the snipers butt cheeks.

_Nice bum_.

She slid forward and began to gently rub the lather into the solid muscles of Boone's back, effectively giving the man a back rub as she did so. It was Craig's turn to let out a rumbling, pleased moan and she leaned down to gently nibble at the flesh of his shoulder. He reached back and placed a halting hand on her thigh before pulling the bar of soap from her hands. Lyra leaned back against the side of the tub and watched as Boone began to wash himself, an undeniable blush creeping across the grown man's cheeks.

"I'm not making you uncomfortable am I?"

Boone smirked, "Yes. You are," he admitted simply before cranking the taps again to rinse himself, "but I'm strangely okay with it."

"Good," she quipped before taking the soap for herself and feeling her own blush intensify as Boone took his turn to watch her complete the simple act. They switched positions so Lyra could rinse the soap off and out of her hair as best she could before Craig stood and stepped out of the tub, wetly padding his way over to a pile of towels on a chair nearby. He wrapped one around his hips before holding one invitingly open for Lyra. She felt a quick rush of shyness as she rose utterly naked from the tub and made her way over and into the relatively soft towel; Boone gently rubbing her dry as she did so.

"What did you talk to Marcus about?" she asked as the pair made their way back into the bedroom, Boone pulling out musty but still intact sleeping wear from one of the wardrobes. He quickly pulled on a loose pair of pajama pants and an old white t-shirt before heading back to the bathroom to collect their clothing.

"Mainly his experience with the NCR… but also more about Caesar. Wanted to know his thoughts on the matter; sounds like he's dealt with a tyrant or _two_ in his day," he explained as he neatly folded their articles of clothing and armor unto a table in the corner.

Lyra slipped into a flimsy but soft nightie and crawled into the bed, moaning happily into the old sheets and pillow, "It certainly sounds like he's… _experienced_."

"He'd make a good ally, Lyra."

The small courier sat up in the bed and looked at Boone, "what do you mean?"

"You and I both know how this is all going to end. Things are already _tense_ between the factions here in the Mojave. He knows a big war is coming and so do we," Craig paused as he lowered himself onto the bed and looked at Lyra intensely, "Bottom line? Caesar's got to be put down. The more time we spend together… the more I'm feeling we can make this happen."

"Craig, don't you think you're getting a little ahead of yourself?"

"No…" He sighed and ran a hand through his buzzed hair, "I mean, not now… but soon. Once we get a few more of our uh, responsibilities in line."

"How the _hell_ are we going to take on an entire Legion camp, especially one as large as the one across the Colorado?" Lyra asked, her nerves spiking slightly at the thought of what potentially laid ahead of them.

"After talking to Marcus… I think it's possible. We do as he suggests; gather an army, make our own alliances… and take them down before they get their full forces at The Dam. We get on good standing with the NCR and we're set," he laid down and extended an arm out to Lyra, protectively pulling her to his chest, "I can't help but shake the feeling you've got a higher purpose Lyra… there has to be a reason for your uh, added _protection_. Either way, I want a part of it."

Lyra let out a long, tired sigh and buried her face under the blankets in Boone's armpit, not wanting to consider exactly _what_ her augmentations were actually intended for, "We don't know that for sure Craig and that's one hell of an endeavor you're asking us to undertake. It will take _time_, and lots of it. Do you think we have that time to spare?"

"Don't have a choice. All the more reason to get on it."

The petite courier looked up at Boone's handsome face, her hand reaching to trace the line of his jaw. He looked down at her intensely and cupped a hand under her chin, raising her lips to his. After he broke the kiss he gently placed his forehead against hers, "I won't rest until I know Caesar's dead. I can't. But if there's anyone in this wasteland who I'd want at my side when I do it, it's you."

Lyra let out a sarcastic laugh, "You're only saying that because I'm a supremely badass cyborg."

Boone stared impassively at his courier.

"I'm serious Lyra."

"Look I'm tired; I have enough on my mind. Can we agree to drop it for now?" she rolled over onto her opposite side, facing away from Boone, "Fuck Craig, you're asking me to take on an entire army before I even know who the fuck I am."

The bed creaked as Boone shifted onto his side and spooned Lyra, his hand gently moving the hair from her neck to nuzzle his face into the soft skin, "Alright, alright. For now. Just… think about it. Okay?"

Lyra didn't respond, opting to remain silent as what Boone suggested rattled around annoyingly in her brain. The reality was Lyra's main focus up to this point had been finding her attacker and after the fiasco at The Tops, Benny was still at large, including the Platinum Chip. She could think of a thousand other things she needed to do before even _flirting_ with the idea of taking on the entire Legion, the enigmatic House being at the top of her _to do list_. She understood Boone's desire but also couldn't shake the feeling she had some other duckies to get in a row before tangoing with the infamous terrorists.

A soft snore issued from behind her and Lyra softened, realizing Boone had fallen asleep nestled against her back. One more tired sigh escaped her lips before her eyes slowly closed and one last thought preceded her slumber.

_One day I'll hit that jackpot… until then, I think there's a few more hands to be dealt._


	19. Introspection

_**Author's note: Why the hell** **does**_MrsGibson_** keep getting deleted from the chapters (it did this time, too) I write it into when I upload? … y u do this? Sorry I have not fixed this or the other small errors yet… I struggle with being profoundly indifferent at times.**_

_**Grumbling aside, you may find the first sequence of this chapter confusing… I suggest just going with the flow and not **_**trying **_**to make sense of it. Thank you as always to all of you taking the time to read.**_

_**/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/**_

"_What the hell are you doing here?"_

_ The woman's eyes narrowed shrewdly as she petulantly tapped her pistol against a thigh, staring impassively at the mustachioed man before her, "It's about time I call in that favor you owe me."_

_ The woman's voice was cyanide and honey, the underlying threat made clear enough beneath her sultry tones. As a heavy, tired sigh crept its way from the man's weathered lips, he hesitantly swung the door open wider for his unexpected guest, "It's been many, many years."_

_ "And you've screwed me over in many, many ways," she retorted subtly as she entered, simultaneously tucking her weapon into the holster on her thigh. She crossed her arms over a full chest as she followed the man further into his small, ancient home. The floorboards creaked in protest beneath her boot encased feet, her heels dully thudding on the old, worn carpet as the pair made their way into a sparse living room. She raised her chin as she looked around the small room, scoffing at the near squalor the man now called a home._

_ "You're not the only one who's folded a hand in this gamble, kiddo. You want something… so out with it."_

_ She turned to the disgruntled man, the irritation permeating his voice near equal to the malice that had oozed from her own. She snorted derisively as she demurely lowered herself to the near-ruined couch, scoffing in discomfort as a multitude of rusted, old springs uncomfortably jabbed into her flesh. She crossed a leather clad leg over the other and folded her hands neatly together._

_ "Do not waste my time old fool with a tiresome game of who's to blame. I am here for one reason and one reason alone. You have abilities that I require the use of and you _will_ do as I request."_

_ "I frankly don't have to do shit for you, young lady," he growled in retaliation, angrily stepping towards the composed and cold woman that sat before him, "I lost the most important thing I ever had. I lost my home. I lost my _family_," he threw his arms up in the air in frustration as he began to pace back and forth before the hard woman, "I was used, like the others, and conveniently cast aside once that use was fulfilled. You couldn't and _didn't_ stop that. Something _you_promised to _me. _No Miss; to be straight, you're the one who owes _**me**_."_

_ She carefully rose from her seat on the couch and though she was not much taller than the man before her, her imposing stature, the striking air which permeated everything that surrounded her, caused the man to shrink uncontrollably, "__**No**__. I will not stand here and correct your __**lies**__," she took a menacing step towards the man until their noses were nearly touching, "You know exactly what you did and though you conveniently choose to ignore it, the echoes of its effect are clear. You __**will**__ help me to set this right and you __**will **_atone_."_

_ "What do _you _know of atonement?" he sneered._

_ "I know what I have _**sacrificed**_ to be here. I know what we will _**lose**_ had I not. I will not repeat myself again; you will do as I request."_

_ "And what might that be exactly?" he questioned her pointedly as he made his way over to a battered cabinet, reaching in to bring a dusty bottle of amber fluid quickly to his dry lips. As the man spun to face his guest, the room shifted violently and walls with brightly colored but peeling wallpaper replaced the drab of before, the sounds of distant slots and cries of mirth echoing off the aged walls. It was a new man, a younger man… a _savvy_ man._

_ He gave the glass in his hand a careful tip, the fluid gently sloshing within._

_ "__**Really **__take on House? Baby I was enjoyin' the ride but now I figure you're out of your mind. Always knew you had a touch of crazy to ya, but hey baby, I've always dug it. But dis __**biz**__… it could be too big, even for us."_

_ The woman reached forward and adjusted the man's lapels, sliding her body closer to him as she sultrily pouted, "We could do it. It could be ours, all of it, and everyone… could finally benefit," she purred into the brunette's ear, deliberately gliding her soft lips along the rigid cartilage before pulling away, "Vegas, Freeside… everything we've wanted and more. Think of what we could _accomplish_." _

_ "Baby, Freeside's a lost cause. Besides, dem Follower yuppies just moved in and I don't see them as ah, __**good**__ for business, you dig?"_

_ "Is that all you care about; the Caps, the booze, the _winning's_? This is _bigger_ than all of that," she hissed suddenly as she moved away from the man, turning to the abused bar top at her side and absently gliding a finger along its amply used surface. A swirl of scratches caught her eye before she fixated them intensely back on the man before her, "It's a yes or no question. Simple. Easy. _Exactly_ what you prefer," she finished haughtily before swinging herself up and over to the other side, immediately making herself a stiff drink._

_ "I'm just being realistic baby-doll. The Family's got a good gig goin' on… and I ain't fixin' on pissin' off the man who made it happen. It's been _fun_ up to this point, playin' little _renegade_ with ya and all but…" he narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the woman who enticingly raised a battered, fluid-filled glass to her full lips, "_**You** _oughtta _understand _dat better then I need ta explain. He already shut _you_ down once. Keep pissin' on a Cazador nest and you'll feel the sting."_

_ She let out a dry laugh, "You're saying this? Truly?" she set down her glass and made her way around the bar, her demeanor rapidly changing into one of malevolence, "You have been there _every _step of the way up to this point. You have sat back in your complacency and _watched _as I laid every stepping stone… and now? _**Now**_that nerve you are always so quick to boast of… just conveniently disappears?" she snorted contemptuously as she stepped closer and cocked a patronizing eyebrow, "I knew you were nothing but a cowardly, self-serving piece of shit."_

_ The man suddenly slapped her across the face, "You shut your _whore _mouth or I'll shut it again for ya," he roughly seized the woman's arms, pinning them to her sides as she recovered from the blow; "You think I don't know? You think I don't got my guys watching every little thing you done with that prick? Dat I ain't _aware _the second you got what you want, you won't take a hike with the schmuck?" he leered disgustingly as he shook her repeatedly, "How is he, huh baby? He fuck you as good as I do?" _

_ "Better," she growled as she forcibly flung her arms out, the man sent stumbling back in surprise from the sheer force before a cold, paralyzing hand tightened around his throat, raising the grown man's feet off the floor as she did so, "I _**will**_ get that which is _mine_. I've always known exactly where your_ _**loyalties**__ lie. Consistency is predictable," she hissed dangerously, her teeth near threatening to rip the flesh from the man's reddening face; "You will not see me again. And if you do… I _promise _your rigged game will have you losing more than a few Caps at its end."_

_ She let go and the man collapsed to the floor in a fit of coughs as she made her way to the door, "You just made the wrong enemy you dumb broad," he rasped, shakily raising himself to one knee as he took in one more glance of the reproachful, powerful woman, "__**We'll **__find you and when the Big Cat and I do… You and Maria are gonna have yourselves a _date_," he finished with a spit of blood to the already stained carpet._

_ She slowly spun on her heels and stepped up to the pathetic man before her, "I look _forward_ to it," She whispered venomously in his ear before her arm reached back and solidly brought a fist to-_

-Boone's face, the sniper sent careening back against a dresser in the room they had been sharing since the previous night. He grunted as the corner dug painfully into his lower back and absently acknowledged the blood flowing from his mouth before hurtling himself back at the out of control Lyra.

"Jesus. Marcus! Arcade!" he shouted desperately as each attempt he made to restrain the crazed woman was thwarted, her considerable and at that point, mostly unknown strength, instilling a jolt of fear Craig was now painfully aware of. Lyra was screaming like an animal as she sent blow after blow of infuriated fists Boone's way, the sniper spending more of his effort's dodging the aggressive attacks than sedating his companion. Just as another backhand sent Craig solidly to the floor Marcus appeared in the doorway, a brief wave of shock passing over his rugged features before he sternly thudded his way to the irate woman.

"No! No! Get the fuck **away** from me!" she screamed as his powerful arms engulfed her, the super mutant grunting with effort as she rattled within his restraint.

He tightened his grip and hefted Lyra off her feet, casting a panicked and concerned look Boone's way, "If you had wanted to keep her unnatural strength from me, your secret is out," he stiffly said through clenched teeth as his arms moved to place Lyra in a sleeper hold, "Any tighter and I could crush her, go get th_ugnf_-" he groaned as Lyra's leg solidly connected with his own, "-Get one of the doctor's. Best bet is to… sedate her," he lowered Lyra carefully to the floor and encased her under his considerable bulk. Lyra was howling as Boone ran from the room, darting through a group of Nightkin that had begun to crowd just outside the scene. He threw open Arcade's door, finding the man already up and pulling a robe over-top his night wear.

"What in the name of God is going on?"

"Come with me. Now!"

"Don't have to tell me twice," the doctor muttered as he grabbed his bag and hurriedly followed behind Craig, gasping in shock as his eyes took in the perplexing sight of a Super Mutant struggling to contain a woman a quarter of its size. He quickly rummaged within his usually organized bag, cursing aloud in sheer, panicked frustration as he dumped its contents atop a table, a cry of relief released as his eyes found the sedative he sought. He rushed over to Marcus' side, narrowly missing a rogue and _very_ violent fist before plunging the syringe deep into Lyra's neck. He fell back onto his backside and let out a long shaky breath as Boone gingerly crouched beside him, gravely clapping a grateful hand on the scientist's shoulder. The two watched Lyra's writhing eventually slow into little more than drowsy, sluggish movements until she was still and Marcus fluidly stood, scooping Lyra in his arms before carefully setting her on the bed.

He turned to Craig, a troubled look in his eyes as he sighed, "A warning of her… potential instability would have been appreciated," he said evenly as he briefly went into the hallway to dismiss the Nightkin who had been warily watching, a few muttering madly to themselves. Once the crowd had been dispersed, he lumbered back in and closed the door behind him.

Craig brought a shaky hand to his mouth, cupping it briefly before dragging it down and over his chin, "I'm sorry. Didn't think it would… I just… didn't think," he finished dumbly, Marcus nodding in understanding as a large hand gently squeezed the sniper's bicep.

"I understand, friend. I don't know what's going on but it is clear to me she is unstable. Best maybe to have Doc Henry come in and have a look."

"No," Boone stated simply, shaking his head slowly at the concerned mutant, "No. Not an option."

"It's been too long since I was a human Craig… but I know no human should have strength enough to cause _me_ a struggle, let alone send a man twice her size to the floor in one blow," he sighed and shook his head wearily, "I am sorry, but I must insist. I do not think you foe, but I also do not need Keene given more reason to justify his distrust in humans. I will return shortly with Henry."

Craig growled in frustration as Marcus left, roughly throwing himself into a tired chair in the corner of the room, his eyes down cast as he anxiously cracked his knuckles. Lyra had not had an attack since they had arrived in New Vegas and while hopeful they had disappeared, he knew it was little more than wishful thinking on his behalf to assume otherwise.

_She had been so… normal. What the _fuck _just happened._

He let out a frustrated growl with the thought just as Arcade approached with some cotton and anti-septic in hand, the doctor nudging Craig gently in the shoulder to get his attention. Boone raised his face and realized Arcade wanted to do what he could for Boone's now painfully aching jaw, Craig acquiescing as the doctor cleaned off his bloody, split lip before injecting the surly man quickly with a Stimpak.

"And… this is why Julie had me _tag_ _along_," Arcade offered lamely as he pulled away from Craig and dragged a chair of his own over and beside the shaken man.

Boone let out a low, gruff chuckle, "Thought it was something _personal_."

Arcade tipped his head in careful consideration, "That, too, however… Julie and I were never convinced Lyra's, uh, _awakening_ would bless her with a miraculous, psychological recovery. She's not _well_ Craig. Not in her mind at least," he sighed and dipped his chin to his chest, "Henry's a good man… he could actually be of some help."

"Yeah? And when will you guys be satisfied? When she's on a gurney in pieces, out for you to _inspect_? Get a few more of you scientists in her face and I don't see these flashbacks of hers gettin' any better," Boone growled defensively, "For all _you_ know it's exactly what's _triggering_ them."

"And for all _you_ know you're _wrong_ in that assumption," Arcade countered, "I understand your cause for concern Craig but frankly, it's misplaced."

Boone angrily stood from his seat and marched out of the room, not in a mood or having the patience to deal with Arcade at that current moment. He ignored the doctor's call behind him and stormed past both Marcus and Henry as he hammered his way down the lobby's stairs, practically exploding out of the large, heavy front doors as he made his way outside. He approached the collection of broken and battered benches along the edges of the patio, slowly sinking into one of the few that were still intact before his eyes scanned across the shimmering expanse of the lake before him. As he felt his pulse begin to slow he buried his face in his hands, the sniper unable to silence the nagging voice at the back of his head.

_This was a mistake. All of it. What the _hell_ are you doing?_

He narrowed his eyes at the thought, relatively able to admit that he didn't entirely agree with the inconveniently familiar voice. Since Lyra had woken up they had done their best to go as slow as possible but Craig's own guilt was eating away at him, questioning whether his own actions had a hand in releasing whatever stream of memories had so violently taken over Lyra. The reality was the only blip in their usual routine had been his uncharacteristically affectionate actions the previous night in the bathroom and Boone wrestled with admitting they may have inadvertently triggered _something_ in the battered woman's psyche.

_Bad enough with my own _issues_. Barely have mine sorted… and here I am, unsurprisingly _fucked_ when I try to unravel _hers.

He couldn't help it. Inconvenient truth or not, Boone was no longer able to deny or stow away his growing… care for Lyra. Not since she finally woke up that day at The Fort several weeks prior. Not since the hours of god damned _therapy, withdrawals_ and _talking_ Craig had painstakingly invested himself into for the **sake** of giving Lyra what she deserved. He couldn't lie he didn't work hard to stifle an ever-present guilt regarding his growing relationship, Carla's memory usually coming to haunt him at problematic times at best. There had been a few nights in that dingy tent when Boone had awoken, reaching out for Lyra but Carla's name escaping his lips. Sometimes, if he looked at Lyra from a certain angle, he even saw striking similarities between the two women. That being said, besides the bullet wounds to the face… the behavioral and physical similarities markedly ended there.

_She's not Carla. She's _never_ going to be Carla. Carla is __**dead**__. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead._

An irate growl erupted from Boone and he felt an all too familiar ache pang through him, the force of his desire for a stiff drink near overwhelming.

_No god damn it, get your collective shit together solider and get your ass back in there._

Boone had had enough introspection for the day, stoically deciding there was dick all he could do about his current mental wanderings and resigned to make his way back into the lodge. Marcus and the Doc had been on their way to give Lyra a check and Boone had little doubt in his mind the scientist would find her less than… intriguing. As he pushed the front doors open with calmness he hadn't had moments prior, a large blue hand grasped at his under shirt and shoved him against the wall.

"You human's are dangerous. You stay away from Nightkin or I tear you limb from limb," Keene growled threateningly into Boone's face, the Nightkin's rank breath causing Craig to grimace involuntarily.

"Keene, please put our guest down, you know violence is not welcome here," Marcus' calm, deep voice boomed from atop the staircase behind them, his mouth in a grim, thin line. Keene narrowed his eyes at Boone who in turn did his best to keep his facial expression neutral, the large mutant slowly lowering Boone to the floor before storming out of the building.

_Had just about _enough_ with being manhandled today._

"My apologies Craig. I feared word would spread to Keene quick enough," Marcus offered solemnly as he approached from the base of the stairs, "Would you join us upstairs? It is my feeling Lyra would find comfort in seeing you when she awakens from the induced slumber."

Craig nodded mutely and followed Marcus back up to the room, noting two other mutants like Marcus patiently holding a number of computer terminals as Arcade hastily screeched a coffee table next to where Lyra lay. Doctor Henry was crouched at the side of the bed with Calamity, clearly checking Lyra's vitals, Rex also populating the now crowded room. Boone leaned back against the wall, one leg bent to rest a boot against it, as he watched the scientists and mutants set up the equipment. Arcade looked up from a tangle of chords and perked his eyebrows at Craig.

"Decided to join us again I see; introspection became a bit _much_?"

Craig grunted in response, turning his head to look at nothing in particular.

"Oh put it away and come help me… I need you to hook these cables up to that generator," Arcade huffed, impatiently holding out a handful of said chords for Craig to take. Boone did as he was asked and plugged them into the old, rusting generator before a mutant gave the weathered chord a pull, the old machine loudly racketing back to life.

"Ah. You have my thanks gentlemen," Doctor Henry said to the mutants as he rose from his position at Lyra's side, gesturing for Calamity to set to work at the terminals. As the two other mutants left the room, he turned to Boone and crossed his arms, a questioning glare behind his eyes, "If you're uncomfortable with filling me in, Arcade has already taken it upon himself. Along with your… desire for secrecy on the matter. I can't speak for the Nightkin who witnessed the attack but I can offer you confidentiality as a doctor."

"Noted," Boone mumbled.

"I confess it's been… a long time since I have come across someone as _unique_ as Lyra," Henry brought a hand to his chin thoughtfully, "Have you ever heard of a place called the Commonwealth, ?"

"Just… Boone will do. And no," Craig said, "Should I?"

"Well I didn't ask the question with high expectations but no, I suppose not," Doctor Henry began as he meandered over to where Calamity was furiously typing commands unto the keyboard before her, "The Commonwealth itself is nothing of much importance, essentially as much a quagmire of desolation as the rest of the Wastes. What _is_ special about it is a facility called The Institute."

"Wait, I _have_ heard of that actually," Arcade spoke up, crossing his arms as he considered Doctor Henry's words, "It's a facility for scientific research, completely sealed off from outsiders… specializes in the creation of Artificial Intelligence…"

"Correct. They are mostly known across the Waste's for their development of Synthetic Humans – Synths or Androids, whichever name you'd prefer."

Craig frowned, "So… you think Lyra's… from there?"

"I certainly wouldn't rule it out as a distinct possibility. Alternatively, she is a creation completely unique from The Institute's laboratories. Considering the vast distance between the Mojave and the Commonwealth, I'm more inclined to believe the latter," Doctor Henry spared a glance down at Lyra, the woman's brow twitching in her forced sleep, "There are many variables to consider and stopping short of breaking her down component by component, I'm not entirely positive I can glean much from her in terms of her _origins_. Calamity is currently working on setting up our neuro-computational scanner, which I hope may prove successful in shedding some light on the matter, though I cannot guarantee results."

Boone felt a spike of trepidation, "Why?"

The good doctor smirked, "You have to understand what magnitude of wealth and frankly _old_ knowledge went into her creation. If she also has genuine or original bioorganic tissue working in tandem with her cybernetic components, as in, they are not entirely synthesized… well, if _you_ created her, you'd make her one tough egg to crack… so to speak."

"Intricate encryptions?" Arcade offered as his own brows furrowed deep in thought.

"More than likely, amongst other protections."

A calloused hand reached behind Boone's head as he uneasily rubbed at the growing stubble there, "And these… psychotic breakdowns? What the hell would cause it?"

"Too many possibilities to consider. If she in fact has a fully organic brain, it could be neural degeneration similar to that afflicting Rex. As I said, Bio-Med Gel will only do its job for a finite period of time. Another possibility to consider would be her 'brain' is strictly an extremely advanced computer matrix," Henry narrowed his eyes as he continued to ride his train of thought, "Now _that_ would be something to behold. Even Pre-War science never perfected this and all robots that _I _am aware of, whether through study or exposure, clearly acknowledged a human brain was _always_ necessary for it to function beyond rudimentary commands."

Boone sighed tiredly as he looked down at the floor, struggling to grasp the immense amount of information Henry was throwing his way, "She's been… lucid, in the past, during these attacks of hers. She never really went into specifics but from what I could tell, they were… memories."

"I wouldn't doubt it. If Lyra is as advanced as I suspect, I feel confident these psychotic breaks of hers are a corruption of whatever data she contains within. If you think I missed the head trauma that has scarred her temple, you're mistaken. Human brain or otherwise, an impact of that caliber would, without a doubt, cause some… dysfunction," he paused, "If she does in fact have a human brain, the likely cause is a traumatic brain injury."

Marcus coughed from his place by the door, nodding quickly towards the bed just as Lyra began to slowly sit up, a small hand reaching up to rub at her forehead. She squeezed her eyes shut one last time before they popped open in wide astonishment at the number of people currently surrounding her.

"Let me guess…" she muttered before throwing her head back down to the pillow, an irritable growl erupting from her lips. Rex jumped up on the bed at her feet, his tail padding happily against the mattress. Lyra sat back up again and leaned forward to warmly pet the beast before shyly turning her gaze to Boone and settling on Doctor Henry.

"Welcome to our exclusive club, Doc."

Henry chuckled good-naturedly, "Thank you Lyra, I'm pleased to be a part of it," he offered before a more serious look fell upon his features, "I'm assuming you feel fine?"

"Naturally."

"Heh. Any recollections of what transpired?"

Lyra blew a raspberry, her bangs fluffing up humorously from the act as her cheeks puffed up, "Nope. Not really. I remember falling asleep and Boone… but as far as I'm concerned, it's six AM and I think you all owe me some breakfast."

"I'm sure we can arrange that. May I ask one thing of you before I let you get up and at 'em?"

"Absolutely Doc, you'll find I'm a very easy going robot," Lyra mused, her arms reaching above her head as she gave a great stretch.

"Calamity has something she'd like to put on your head; it will only take a few moments for my scanner to retrieve what I need. After that, you are free to go… provided you have no other concerns or ailments I should be aware of, of course."

Lyra shook her head and sat patiently as Calamity lowered the apparatus around her cranium, Boone opting to sit in the chair beside her. She offered him a weak smile and he carefully reached to squeeze her hand, Calamity's ruined fingers tightening the belt straps in place under Lyra's chin as he did so.

"Present from me?"

"What? Oh," Boone licked his lower and very swollen lip, "its fine."

Lyra smiled sadly and followed Calamity's instruction, laying her head back down on the pillow as the snug fitting harness began to glow a pale green between her skin and its metal bars. Doctor Henry and Arcade made their way over to the terminals at Lyra's bedside, both preparing to take down notes as Calamity returned to typing excitedly on the terminal. Suddenly a strange crackling noise issued from both machines and Doctor Henry had a second to throw himself and the other two to the floor before the crackling turned into an explosive pop, the computer terminals reduced to little more than smoking husks. Lyra's eyes widened as she turned to look at Boone, an almost sheepish grin spreading across her face as the others rose from their places on the floor, Doctor Henry sighing at the loss of two pieces of equipment.

"Like I said… tough egg to crack."

_**/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/**_


	20. Pups!

_**Disclaimer: Any and all content taken directly from the game's script is the strict property of Bethesda and has only been used for non-profit fun.**_

_**/-/-/-/-/-/-/**_

"So you're back! Now, where did we leave off…?"

Tails wagged happily as snouts snuffled and huffed around the elderly woman Lyra stood before, the courier's sheer relief hard to contain. Not that she was particularly _excited_ to essentially ask a woman to murder a pet; Lyra was just grateful she and Boone had arrived in one piece. The merchants made it to Jacobstown only a few days after her little… _episode_. Though they hadn't made any gains in their endeavors to piece Lyra together, Doc Henry had surprised her with his level of encouragement to go through with the trip, against Boone's express hesitance. It was Henry's belief that Lyra's episodes had one consistent commonality, a simple concept of _an idle mind is a dangerous thing_.

With a heavy prescription to keep busy and avoid "down time", he had sent Lyra and Boone off on their way, the pair completing the merchant's run to Novac in a little over a week and a half. Their supplies hadn't sustained the heavy hit Boone had feared; Joyce, the merchant they travelled with, expressing her growing appreciation for them with each raider or wasteland asshole they put down. Appreciation by Joyce's interpretation _always_ included ammo. Coupled with the added guns of the merchant's main posse of _hired help_, the troupe had completed the run with next to no causalities. Lyra had enjoyed her little gallivant across the wastes, pleased to see places of old and one's of new. She and Boone had made a significant dent in their funds at the 188 Trading Post, the armament merchant there being just as easy to give caps as to talk to.

_And that _other _girl…_

Veronica had been priceless, the girl's sense of humour and upbeat attitude being beyond appreciated after several days of _assholes_. Lyra had heeded Boone's advice to be wary and not invite the mysterious yet witty woman to travel with them, though Lyra had certainly _tried_ otherwise in the original discussion. She was a curious thing, dressed in her plain, drab robes but so vehemently in love with finer things. As for the _wanderlust_ Veronica clearly fought hard to repress, Lyra found it struck a particular chord within her. It was regretfully when she had said her goodbye's after they had spent the night under the bridge, The Forecaster being another soul Lyra hoped she came across again… regardless of the downright weird _fortune_ he had bestowed upon her when her curiosity had finally won out.

_"Your face does the thinking – two to the skull, yet one gets up. Odds are against you… but they're just numbers after the two-to-one. You're playing the hand you've been dealt, but you don't let it rest, you shuffle and stack, and a gamble… that may pay off? But how? Forecast: rapidly changing conditions"_

Lyra involuntarily shuddered, deciding she was not going to be in a _philosophical_ mood in the near future. Though she could admit she had certainly chewed on the topic for the remainder of their trip to Novac, she had had more pressing matters on her mind. Boone had been pretty quiet for most of the trip and while Lyra was certainly accustom to the man's silent and generally distant personality, even when in the brief realm of privacy, he had remained reserved. Lyra had decided it was a poor time to push the issue and had stored the thoughts and feelings to the back of her mind…

..._For now._

"Didn't think you'd remember me," Lyra said as she held out a hand to give Mrs Gibson's own a squeeze in greeting, the older woman giving Lyra and Boone a toothy (well, a _few_ were missing) welcome. Lyra and Boone had arrived earlier that morning; the two depositing their packs in the hotel room Lyra still had the key for, before making their way down the road to the scrap yard. As they had approached, several dogs had come bounding over, Lyra relieved to have something furry other than a coyote displaying interest in her.

"I may be old missy but I got a trick for remembering faces… at least the _good _ones," she chuckled as she winked, tipping her head in the direction of the content mutts surrounding their feet at that current moment. Lyra smiled warmly.

"It's a good trick… I've come to appreciate it myself actually," Lyra began as she pulled an old, rusting lawn chair up beside the elderly woman, "I've got… this dog. He's um… unique," Lyra began awkwardly, ruefully shutting down any thoughts that even flirted with thinking of _herself_ with the words, "He's pretty much half-robot, half-real dog. I think you'd like him."

Mrs Gibson laughed, "Sounds _like_ my kinda dog."

"Agreed," Lyra began, "But… he's sick. I met a man named Doctor Henry up north in the mountains; he says Rex's brain isn't well and, to put it as delicately as I can… he needs a new brain."

"Doctor Henry? Now there's a name I haven't heard in years," Mrs Gibson barked, leaning back in her chair ever so slightly, "Hard to believe he's still alive. Way back when, he and I had joined up with the same caravan. Add in a lot of whiskey, and, well, let's just say we got to _know_ each other," she brought a hand to her face and absently chewed on her thumbnail as she continued, "As for your request, it's a bit, uh, _ghoulish_… but," she reached down and fondly rubbed the soft ears of a graying boy beside her, "Rey is pretty old and I'll probably have to put him down soon enough. As for the price of this favour, 700 Caps sounds about right. Rey's like family, and I've got other dogs to take care of."

"A fair trade," Lyra beamed, turning to Boone who had leaned against the walls of Mrs Gibson's house, Craig swinging his pack off to pull out one of their pouches of caps. Combined with the added _bonus_ Joyce had gratefully insisted on giving them, the two had more than enough Caps to fund the grisly task. She handed the old woman a pouch that jingled loudly and decided to remain out front with Boone while Mrs Gibson lured Rey to the back, the reticent couple hearing little more than a shot and quick yelp.

"You folk's got somethin' to _put_ this in?"

Lyra snapped forward from the wall beside Boone, pulling her own pack off of her shoulders as she gingerly pulled out the container of Bio-Med Gel Doctor Henry had provided for preservation. She passed it off to Mrs Gibson, the elderly woman disappearing with the carcass of Rey inside her small abode. Not twenty minutes had passed before she came out, handing Lyra the container that was wisely tied up in a faded and ratty scarf.

"I reckon I fancy the idea of ol' Rey goin' out this way," she smiled kindly at Lyra, patting the young woman's arm rather grandmotherly-like as Lyra carefully tucked the brain into her pack, "Kinda neat to think he's gonna keep _goin'_."

Lyra nodded her thanks, "Me, too. I'll take, well, good care of him Mrs G. Thank you… truly."

"You gonna be in Novac for long? You're welcome to dinner."

Lyra turned to look at Boone who shrugged, the pair having already decided they would risk some rest in the relatively quiet town, "That… would be nice."

"Hope you like roast Molerat! It's my specialty."

"We look forward to it," Boone offered politely as he and Lyra turned and made their way back to the town. They silently made their way up the road, Lyra kicking an old rusted can ahead of them until Boone suddenly booted it away from her in irritation. He narrowed his eyes at her as it panged off the siding of a nearby shack before he turned around and continued up the road. Lyra's jaw dropped as she jogged back up to his side, her hand darting out to yank on his arm forcefully.

"What the he-"

"Lyra, it can wait," Craig immediately cut her off as he jerked his bicep out of her grasp and shrugged his shoulders, his eyes conveniently hidden behind the dark shades fixed to his features.

"You don't get to be an asshole and hit pause," she snapped at Boone's back, angrily stomping towards him for a second time, "I dealt with it while we were with the Caravan but what the hell gives? You've been an insufferable dick for days and I finally try to ask 'what's up' and you shit your pants? Craig!" she shouted, her voice hitching to a level of desperation she wasn't quite okay with. She stopped and watched as Boone took a few more steps before stopping and making his way back over, Lyra angrily blinking her stinging eyes as Boone's hard facial expression grew clearer.

"All I am _asking_ Lyra, is to wait until we're not in the god-damn-middle of Novac," he hissed quietly, frowning imploringly as he carefully glanced around the crumbling settlement, "Think. This is Novac, my wife was taken by _slavers_ here and the culprit _ran_ the damn place. I painted the Mojave with her _skull matter._ Understand why I'm _hesitant_ to cause a scene._"_

Lyra scoffed, "You're serious? Craig, we haven't been here in…. _months_ now. If Manny is still in that dino, he didn't take a shot and no one else has run at us with torches and pick forks," She narrowed her eyes, "Try a little more _effort_ with your next round of bullshit."

Boone's nostrils flared.

"You're pushing it."

"As I should!" Lyra shouted, incensed beyond a point of giving a damn what anyone heard, "I get you're still working on it but pick a fucking personality already. I was just getting _used_ to the new one," she muttered as she stormed off for their hotel room, noting Boone's heavy steps behind her the entire way. There was a flutter to her chest and quickness in her breath Lyra knew she couldn't completely attribute to her brisk pace. Boone was pissed and it was not going to be pretty, Lyra fighting hard to keep her hands steady as her key ring jingled, the key stiff in the dead bolt as she turned and pushed the door open.

Boone's hand caught the door before it hit the frame shut behind her, pushing it open as Lyra spun on her heels and crossed her arms over her chest defensively. Boone gently pushed the door closed behind him and swung his pack off his shoulders, dumping it against the wall of the dingy room. He carefully pulled his sun glasses from his face and placed them on the rusting kitchen table, turning to Lyra with a scowl she did her best to mimic in return.

"So ask," he growled.

Lyra felt her nerve shake.

_Only a little._

"Since we left Jacobstown you've been so… _you_!" she lamely fumbled, grimacing at the trip of her thoughts, finding herself more disarmed and confused by the snipers reversion to his old behavioral habits than legitimately angry. There had been a time where she accepted it for the most part, but he had just as much wanted that to change. Boone sighed and sunk down onto the couch, crossing his forearm over the other as his hands dangled between his legs.

"Just… got a lot on my mind."

"So… talk to me," Lyra whispered, moving to sit across from Boone, the bed creaking in protest as she slowly lowered herself to the old mattress. Craig cracked his knuckles uncomfortably before looking up at Lyra, the only sign of his own anxiety over the situation being the habitual flex of his jaw.

"I'm frustrated. You're mad at me because I just want to _think_," he breathed and his lips formed a thin line as he paused briefly, "I said I got some _help_ Lyra… I didn't get a god damn _cure_."

Lyra bit her lower lip, "I know okay? I know. But…" she trailed off and rose from the bed, her hand nervously reaching to twirl the ends of her blonde hair habitually between her fingers, "You've been like this since _before_ we left Jacobstown. You're right, I was just," she waved a hand absently, "…pissy because you've been rotten to me lately."

Boone stared impassively at Lyra so she continued, "I know you're not magically better either… but come on, this is hard to process. If… if you're regretting _this_," she flicked a finger back and forth between the two of them, "then just say so. Otherwise, I can't handle wherever this road is leading."

A growl escaped from Craig's lips and he leaned back into the couch, running a large hand down his face, "No. It's… I don't know. Let's just drop it."

_Cheater._

"That's not fair Craig; you can't treat me like shit and then dismiss me because it's convenient. You said you need to think. Fine. Fair enough," she snapped angrily before throwing herself down on the couch beside him, a hand reaching to turn his chin towards hers, "But if you didn't act so suddenly like an asshole towards me, I'd probably have an easier time _brushing it off_."

Lyra stared desperately into Boone's own gaze, her eyes darting back and forth as she tried to pull an explanation from the man's irises, "_Is _it me? You know, like… the whole package kind of thing? Did I _do _something?" she asked, unable to fight the liquid pooling beneath her eyelids.

Craig pulled away and dipped his chin to his chest, his thick arms reaching to cup both hands behind his neck, a rough groan of irritation erupting from his thin lips, "Hgn, no. I'm… just trying to piece it together. It's been on my mind… but I don't know how to _say_ it Lyra," he pursed his lips together and looked back up at her, his one hand pulling from his neck to tuck behind her arm and slowly slide up her ribs, "Just… scared," he whispered so softly Lyra wasn't sure she'd heard him right.

A rush of affection overtook Lyra and she shuffled until she was thigh to thigh with Boone, her arm encasing his shoulders while his slid across her ribs and over her back, squeezing Lyra's opposite side where it now lay. She nuzzled her nose and lips into the side of his head, "Why?"

"I don't… want to _trigger_ anything. I've got _unfinished business_ to take care of. Business that I don't see myself walking away from…" he answered hoarsely, "I _want _this… but what if we can't _have_ it?"

Lyra swallowed a large lump in her throat and felt herself shrink slightly, "Craig… my blackouts _aren't _your fault. There's a blip somewhere and that's the end of that," she sighed heavily and shook her head at Boone, "You can't do this. You can't tease me with one thing and then shut it down because _you're_ getting cold feet. Even if you _were_ triggering anything… better you than anything else. And as for your _business_… it doesn't _have_ to end that way you know…" she finished softly as she carefully reached for Boone's other hand, entwining her fingers slowly in his as she tipped her head onto his shoulder. As the minutes of silence agonizingly dragged on, Lyra felt herself lose the little self-control she had left.

"I don't wanna be by myself…" she whispered quietly, feeling very, very small.

Boone's arm hooked under her armpit as a large hand softly pressed against the side of Lyra's head, cupping the side of her face as he turned his head to brush his lips across her forehead, "You're not. I'm not going anywhere Lyra. There's just…. A lot on my mind. I keep thinking of what Marcus said. I near convinced myself getting in a damn _tub_ potentially broke you. We just hiked half-way across the Mojave to the town where my wife was sold to slavery and I remain a murderer…" he slowly inched his face closer to hers and carefully kissed her before pulling away and offering Lyra a weak smile, "I'm… adjusting."

Lyra pulled away and leaned her back into the arm of the couch, pulling her knees up to her chest as she tugged on her hair, "It's not as if I can blame you. I just… the other stuff doesn't matter, we'll cross those bridges when we get to them… but _**us**_? We can't pick and choose what bridge is most convenient," she pressed her forehead into her hand, leaning heavily into the elbow she had planted on the couches arm. A few rogue tears made their way down her cheeks and she hurriedly rubbed them away.

_Of all the robot's who could cry…_

"Hey," Boone reached over and encouragingly pulled Lyra into his lap as much possible, "Look, I'm sorry. I was an asshole. But… I've got a… little more _work_ to do," his hand reached up to brush some of Lyra's hair behind her ear before he looked at her with a dark thoughtfulness, "Bittersprings… It's just off the 93. On the way back… can we go?"

Lyra gave Boone a determined look, her own desire to discover a part of the melancholy man's past too tempting to deny, "Let's go now."

"Tomorrow. Though, maybe we _should_ see about getting some dinner with Mrs Gibson," he said as Lyra removed herself from him, unbuckling her pauldrons and leather jacket until she was down to a faded, black tank top. Boone rose as well and gently nibbled on her shoulder before giving her a quick, chaste kiss.

"As long as it's not _Rey_ we're eating..." she mused as she followed Craig out of the hotel room, smiling at her own comment… but mostly at Boone.

_Thank you._

_**/-/-/-/-/-/-/**_

__Nestled between jagged rock faces that were tinged of a deep red lay the desolate settlement called Bittersprings. The faded dual-headed bear of the NCR was faint on the weathered wooden sign by the entrance. A nervous looking trooper greeted them, his eyes warily scanning in the distance, the young soldier clearly on high alert. Boone tugged on the crease of Lyra's elbow, bringing her to a halt at his side.

"This is the place," he took a hesitant breath, making an obvious attempt to not look at Lyra as he spoke, "We got sent here from Camp Golf. Heard about some Great Khans making trouble for settlers…" he gave a rueful smirk, "Guess one of the settlers was connected, because we sent everything we _had_."

Lyra turned to look around and weakly grimaced, "Seems a bit… excessive."

"Yeah. We figured this was just a gang hangout… but they lead us to their _home_."

Lyra chewed on her lower lip, "I don't like where this is going…"

Boone scoffed and continued ahead, "I saw that comin' from a mile away."

Lyra rolled her eyes and did her best to bite back a sigh, knowing that this was neither the time _nor_ certainly the place to have that particular discussion.

_Problem is… that's _exactly _the discussion on the itinerary. _

She worriedly twirled her blonde tresses between her fingers, her other hand resting on the butt of her side arm as the pair made their way up the minor incline. As they approached and Lyra's eyes fell on the isolated camp, she found herself increasingly wishing she had shades to hide behind like Boone.

The place reeked of desperation. Amongst a myriad of rusting trailers, NCR and, what Boone described as, Great Khan tents, they made their way up another crest of a hill. A large medical tent greeted them… along with a fair amount of desperate refugees patiently waiting for attention. Lyra couldn't help but gape at the faces of those, young and old, who looked up at her, the detached and flighty flicks of the refugee's eyes disturbing her in a way she couldn't overlook. As Boone pulled the flap of the tent's door back for Lyra, an exhausted looking doctor poked his head out.

"Wounded? You'll have to wait. Fill out this form and then I can _help_," he instructed briskly, shoving a clipboard hastily into her arms as he turned his head around and called for the next patient. Lyra shot a worrying glance Boone's way before she dumped the clipboard on a chair beside the tent's walls and tapped the vexed doctor on the shoulder.

"Do _you _need help?"

The man blinked confusedly for a few brief seconds as he looked into Lyra's round, pale green eyes. She encouragingly smiled back at him, "You know, it's not _so_ rare a thing…"

"I – well," he straightened up, kindly waving a refugee towards the tent, "You'll have to forgive me. Out here… it's really your last expectation," he crossed his arms and looked both Boone and Lyra over thoughtfully, "Any first aid training?"

"Enough. Can't perform surgery or miracles but we're willing to help if it means we can have a place to sleep tonight," Lyra offered.

"Deal. Do me a favour though, one of you pop in and give Captain Gilles a heads up; she doesn't like… surprises."

"Sorry and you are?" Lyra asked, extending her hand. The doctor looked at her in puzzlement then shrugged and gave her hand a firm shake.

"Lieutenant Markland… I'm the medical officer of this camp," he turned his head and quickly saluted Boone, "If it wasn't for that beret of yours, I can admit I'd be a little more… hesitant about this arrangement. Discharged?" he asked Boone.

Craig flexed his jaw and curtly nodded, "Honorably. Keeping myself… busy."

Lieutenant Markland perked his eyebrows at Lyra, "Wish I had First Recon looking after me."

"Yeah. Not the first time I've been told," Lyra said as she cocked an eyebrow before turning to Craig, "You want to handle the Captain? I think that's more up your alley."

"Alright," he said before stepping towards Lyra and leaning close to her ear, slightly pulling her away from the Lieutenant's vicinity, "Be realistic Lyra… I want to help this place, too. But…I don't think it would be smart to ah…. _Linger_."

Lyra nodded and gave him a grave smile before following the Lieutenant into the crowded medical tent, the smell of which caused her nose to wrinkle. Markland surveyed his very occupied beds and gestured to a younger boy wrapped in bandages.

"Third degree burns. Change his bandages and clean the wounds as best as you can and that'll be a start," he said, pulling open a drawer under a battered and rusted medical cabinet before piling supplies into Lyra's open arms. He stopped before leaving to tend to another patient and asked, "Any chance you have some spare Stimpak's?"

With Lyra's little discovery she had rapidly found herself with Stimpak's in _aces_, the supply usually reserved for herself had steadily grown over the course of their trip to find Rex a brain, "I do, actually. When Boone comes back I can get you some."

"Marvelous," Markland responded, spinning on his heels as he quickly made his way to an older, groaning man a few stretchers away. Lyra took a deep breath and turned to the young boy lying at her side, gingerly placing the medical supplies on a nearby table. As she began to delicately cut and unravel the yellowing bandages that covered most of the boys' arms, brig brown and _very_ frightened eyes opened and looked at her, Lyra's breath involuntarily catching.

"Just… helping," she whispered as comfortingly as possible, the boy mutely nodding as she pulled the last of the gauze from his arms. His flesh was black, red and angry looking. She cringed inwardly, her curiosity over the _cause___of the wounds making her stomach twist, thoughts of Nipton intrusively returning to the forefront of her mind. As she carefully cleaned the wounds, small hisses of pain and faint whimpers escaped from the _child _and Lyra was finding it increasingly easy to guess who would inflict such a terrible torture on someone so young. She gave her head a quick shake as she finished wrapping the last of the fresh bandages over the scarred and broken flesh before delicately injecting a Stimpak behind the boys' ear.

"You're… a nice lady," a small voice croaked out and Lyra's heart wept. She swallowed deeply and swung her pack off her shoulders, suddenly remembering a particular item she had stumbled across. Her hands were buried deep into her pack as she looked up and smiled playfully at the poor thing.

"What's your name kiddo?"

"J-Justin…"

From the depths of her pack Lyra pulled out a faded and dog eared comic book, excitingly showing it to Justin, "And Justin… would you find reading a Grognak the Barbarian _fun_?"

The boy blushed and nodded his head as vigorously as his wounds would let him, "Y-yes!"

"Me, too. But I finished it, so you can have it," she said, slowly sitting down on the bed to avoid disturbing his wounds too much as Justin began to flip slowly through each page in wonder. Her hand reached up to gently run her palm down the smooth but patchy hair at the back of the boys' head, feeling a tightness in her throat grow at each little gasp of excitement he let out at every new page.

"Man, you read fast," she teasingly commented, gently ruffling the boys' hair. He blushed again and grew very shy.

"My mama… didn't get to finish teaching me."

_You would Universe. You would._

Lyra cleared her throat and held her hands out for Justin to return the comic book, "Well, I'm not so bad at it myself and I'm _super_ into Grognak," she said as she flipped back to the first fading page of the ancient comic book, doing her best to be as expressive as possible with each turn of a page and word she spoke. Justin was utterly captured and though Lyra had not read more than fifteen or twenty pages, his disappoint was unabashedly clear at the end.

"How am I going to know if Grognak ever rescues Sheelah?" he cried softly, fighting back a wince as he almost flapped his arms in frustration. Lyra let out a soft chuckle and leaned her head on top of the boys.

"I'll tell you a secret… the hero _always_ rescues the girl and saves the world. It's _kinda_ his thing," she whispered then stood from the bed, "I'll see you around Justin. If I find anymore, they're yours."

The boys' shy but content smile beamed her way as she walked up to Markland, "What else?"

Markland looked over her shoulder at Justin, the boys face buried behind the comic book now in his bandaged hands, "I… think that will do. For now," he turned and smiled at her warmly, "Thank you. That's the most I've seen him speak in weeks."

Lyra shrugged awkwardly before her one arm reached to hug her sides protectively, "Do you… know what happened?"

"Legion."

He didn't have to say anything more. Lyra nodded resolutely and cleared her throat before speaking, "If… that's all you need, I'll l go find my partner, get you those Stimpak's."

"Thank you."

Lyra made her way out of the tent and promptly found Boone talking quietly with a woman in a green beret. She had noticed early on during their travels the ease in which Boone reverted to old military habit, servicemen and women usually being strangers he talked easier to than others. She tentatively approached and the hard looking brunette turned her gaze in Lyra's direction.

"You must be Lyra."

"Nice to meet you," Lyra hesitantly offered.

The Captain curtly nodded at her before turning back to Boone, "I have a few spare mattresses in the tent just over there. You're welcome to them. Any rations or medical supplies you can spare would be appreciated."

"We can do that but the mattresses won't be… necessary. Thanks," Boone said, reaching down into his pack to neatly place several items of their food supplies on a battered kitchen table nearby. Lyra also quickly reached in and pulled out her tin lunchbox of medical supplies, swiftly darting back in the direction of the Lieutenant's clinic. The doctor made his thanks clear before ushering her back out, his agitation rising with each wail that erupted from a badly wounded man in the corner of the tent. Boone was sitting outside on the gravel and crudely constructed steps of the small hill when she exited the tent, his gaze unreadable behind the shades that reflected the setting sun. Lyra plopped down beside him and idly tossed a rock, watching as it toppled and bounced its way down the haphazard steps.

"What did you talk to her about?" she inquired, tilting her head to look at Boone as she raised her hand to shield her eyes from the glare of the setting sun.

"Status of the camp… why the _hell_ they haven't been resupplied," Boone flexed his jaw and uncharacteristically spat, "Don't get _why_ they're in this bad of shape. NCR is cutting it too close."

"So… Are we staying then?" she asked.

"Yeah. But first… there's someplace I want to show you," he answered, his voice taught and raspier than usual as he stood and lead the way. Lyra practically had to trot to keep at his pace as he charged through the sad settlement, the pair making their way through yet another red canyon at a separate entrance to the town. Lyra did her best not to notice the ghoulishly impressive collection of graves that lined the red walls' base. Boone cleared his throat and continued talking as they briskly made their way to the outskirts.

"There's a ridge called Coyote's Tail on the south side… That's where we set up."

Lyra gave a great stretch, her toned arms reaching high above her head as her midriff was briefly exposed, "How did you know mattresses were my natural enemy?"

"Don't be a jackass."

"I'm just _kidding_," She paused and placed a hand haltingly on Craig's bicep, "Seriously, Craig. Sorry, I was just being a twat... wherever you wanna go," she said as she timidly smiled at the stony features of the sniper before her.

Boone nodded gravely and continued on his way, "Canyon 37… That's what the NCR called this pass down here," he began as he absently scanned around them, "It was the Khan's only escape, so we set up just… over there," he said as he pointed at a jutting rock face a small ways in the distance. Lyra opted to remain as silent as Boone as they made their way toward it, markedly noting the slowing of Boone's pace as they approached and climbed to its edge. Immediately Lyra could see the pass was a natural funnel and though painfully aware of exactly what words would soon be coming from Boone's mouth, she found herself desperately hoping for the alternative.

The steel toe of Craig's combat boot kicked a small grouping of gravel and rock off the lip of the cliff, his back to Lyra as words began to flow from his lips in a disturbingly absent way, "We set up here to guard the canyon while the main force attacked from the front. Standing orders were to shoot on sight…"

In a very small voice, Lyra asked the question she'd held within since the first day she met Boone, "What _happened_?"

"Main force got spotted too soon. We heard shooting. Then the Khan's started coming through Canyon 37 in _bunches_. It was all _wrong_ though…" he whispered quietly, Lyra feeling her heart beat faster in her chest at the _very_ unstable tone to Boone's usually stoic voice, "Women. Kids. Elderly. Wounded started coming through, too. We radioed to confirm our orders but command didn't _get_ what we were _seeing_," Boone took a quick, quivering breath, "They told us to shoot 'til we ran out of ammo. So… that's what we did…"

Lyra brought a hand to her mouth as her eyes began to burn, the vulnerable voice coming from a man usually rigid as iron rattling her to the core. It didn't sound like Boone was just _telling_ Lyra; the man was reliving the memory right before her very eyes and a panic spread through her at the realization. Waves of reality came crashing over Lyra and as her panic evolved into full-blown disgust at the orders Boone had been given, words escaped her lips before she could really consider the weight behind them.

"How… could you kill _innocent_ people like that?"

Boone's lips twisted into an ugly sneer, "With the Khans, _any_ of them could be dangerous. There's a lot you can't see through a scope…." his lips returned to a grim line and he sent Lyra a tortured stare before a heavy sigh seemingly flew from the depths of his chest rather than his mouth, "Still… I often wonder the same thing."

Lyra chewed anxiously on the side of her cheek, finding she was speechless at Boone's confession before he let out a gruff sigh and turned his gaze away from her, "Anyway, I don't know why we're here. Thought it'd maybe help me see things better," he swung his pack and rifle off his back and gently set the gun atop the ragged bag, "I'd like to stay here for the night. Think things…. Over."

All Lyra could do was nod dumbly as she also began to set up their small camp, the openness of their position leaving her nervous but she couldn't decide if it was due to a threat… or the undeniable discomfort Boone's memories had instilled. It wasn't that her feeling towards him had done a sudden one-eighty, but there was an undeniable weight behind the truth and she was currently doing her best to battle the imbalance she felt creeping up on her. After she had carefully removed the container encasing Rey's brain, she stretched out on the hard ground, her head resting on her mostly-empty pack as comfortably as possible before she turned to look at Boone who was sitting with his back to her. She propped herself up onto her one elbow, leaning on it for support as she twisted her body his way. She reached out and gently placed her hand on Boone's muscled back and gave it a reassuring rub. Finding herself with nothing else to say she laid back, looking up at the stars before her eyes slowly closed and nightmares of fire and bullets echoed behind her closed eyes.

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_**Thanks for reading. Review if you'd like. :) I'll update ASAP… been busy.**_


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